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THE 



SAINT AND HIS SAYIOUR; 



THE PROGRESS OF THE SOUL IN THE 
KNOWLEDGE OF JESUS. 



BY 

THE KEY. CFH. SPUEGEON, 











"Christ is all."— Col. 


dl. 1L 

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XEW YOI 


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BOSTON: GOULD & 


LINCOLN. 














CHICAGO I S. C. GRIGGS & CO. 
















1859. 











3K 



U333 



" The special work of our ministry is to lay open Christ, to hold up the 
tapestry and unfold the mysteries of Christ. Let us labour therefore to be 
always speaking somewhat about Christ, or tending that way. When we speak 
of the law, let it drive us to Christ; when of moral duties, let them teach us to 
walk worthy of Christ. Christ, or something tending to Christ, should be our 
theme, and mark to aim at." 

Sibbs. 

" And surely this is the sweetest subject that ever was preached on ; is it not 
as ointment poured forth, whose smell is so fragrant, and whose savour is so 
sweet, that therefore all the virgins love him? Is it not a subject which com- 
prehends all the glory and excellency and beauty of all the tilings in heaven 
and in earth?" 

Isaac Ambrose. 



W. H. TrogoN, Stereotypy. 



TO 

THE ONE GOD OF HEAVEN AND EAKTH, 

IN g 

THE TRINITY OP HIS SACRED PERSONS, 
BE ALL HONOUR AND GLORY, 
WORLD WITHOUT END, 

AMEN. 

TO THE GLORIOUS FATHER, 

AS THE 
COVENANT GOD OP ISRAEL; 

TO THE GRACIOUS SON, 

THE REDEEMER OP HIS PEOPLE J 

TO THE HOLY GHOST, 

THE AUTHOR OP S A N C T I PI C AT I ON ; 

BE EVERLASTING PRAISE FOR THAT EXPERIENCE OP FREE GRACE 

AND SOVEREIGN LOVE 

WHICn IS SIMPLY DESCRIBED IN THIS VOLUME. 



PREFACE. 



I have no idea of what I am expected to say in 
a preface, and am of opinion that a book is better 
without an appendage usually so unmeaning. I 
will, however, make one or two faithful declarations 
which may, perhaps, shield me from the reader's 
wrath, should lie find my work of less value than 
he expected. 

Never was a book written amid more incessant 
toil. Only the fragments of time could be allotted 
to it, and intense mental and bodily exertions have 
often rendered me incapable of turning even those 
fragments to advantage. 

Writing is to me the work of a slave. It is a 
delight, a joy, a rapture to talk out one's thoughts 
in words that flash upon the mind at the instant 
when they are required ; but it is poor drudgery to 
sit still and groan for thoughts and words without 
succeeding in obtaining them. Well may a man's 
books be called his "works," for, if every mind 
were constituted as mine, it would be work indeed 
to -oroduce a quarto volume. Nothing but a sense 



VI PREFACE. 

of duty has impelled me to finish this book, which 
has been more than two years on hand. Yet have 
I, at times, so enjoyed the meditation which my 
writing has induced, that I would not discontinue 
the labour were it ten times more irksome: and 
moreover, I have some hopes that it may yet be a 
pleasure to me to serve God with the pen as well 
as the lip. 

The subject of religious experience is a very 
wide one, and those points of it upon which I have 
touched deserve larger notice from a far abler hand 
than mine. The aged Christian will find very little 
instruction here ; it will not be proper for him to 
expect it when he is reminded of the object of the 
volume. It has been my aim to deal only with the 
more common and shallow experiences of beginners, 
and I have left the great deeps for those who have 
long done business upon them. To comfort the 
mourner, to confirm the weak, to guide the wander- 
ing, and reassure the doubting has been my great 
desire. If I may but hear of some trembling sin- 
ners led to Jesus by the following pages, or of some 
distressed believer enabled to rejoice, it will be an 
ample recompence to me. 

I have dedicated the work to God, and I now 
crave His abundant blessing upon it. 

Clapham, Seviember 18.V 7 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

The Despised Friend 9 



CHAPTER II. 
Faithful Wounds 43 

CHAPTER III. 
Jesus Desired 99 

CHAPTER IV. 
Jesus Pardoning 155 

CHAPTER V. 
Jor at Conversion 1*7 5 

CHAPTER VI. 
Complete in Christ 217. 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER VII. 

PAGE 

Loye to Jesus . 241 

CHAPTER VIII. 
Love's Logic 272 

CHAPTER IX. 
Jesus in the Hour of Trouble , 315 

CHAPTER X. 
Jesus Hiding Himself 354 

CHAPTER XI. 
The Causes of Apparent Desertion 3*78 

CHAPTER XII. 
Communion Preserved , 413 



THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR 



I. 
THE DESPISED FRIEND. 



"We esteemed him not." — Isa. liii. 3. 

It would not be easy for some of us to recall the 
hour when we first heard the name of Jesus. In 
very infancy that sweet sound was as familiar to our 
ear as the hush of lullaby. Our earliest recollec- 
tions are associated with the house of God, the 
family altar, the Holy Bible, the sacred song, and 
the fervent prayer. Like young Samuels, we were 
lighted to our rest by the lamps of the sanctuary, 
and were awakened by the sound of the morning 
hymn. Many a time has the man of God, whom a 
parent's hospitality has entertained, implored a 
blessing on our head, desiring in all sincerity that 
we might early call the Eedeemer blessed ; and to* 
his petition a mother's earnest " Amen " has 

solemnly responded. Ours were happy portions 

l* 9 



10 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

and goodly heritages ; but nevertheless, being 'born 
in sin, and shapen in iniquity," these heavenly pri- 
vileges did not of themselves avail to give us love 
to Jesus, and pardon by his blood. 

We are often compelled to weep over sins aggra- 
vated by light as clear as noonday — ordinances un- 
dervalued from their very frequency — warnings 
despised, although accompanied with tears from a 
parent's eye — and loathings felt in the heart, if not 
expressed by the lips, to those very blessings which 
were the rich benisons of heaven. In our own per- 
sons we are witnesses to the fact of innate depra- 
vity, the birth-plague of man ; and we can testify 
to the doctrine that grace, and grace alone, can 
change the heart. The words of Isaiah are ours 
with an emphasis, notwithstanding all the hallowed 
influences which surrounded us : and in uttering 
the confession, " we esteemed him not," the haunts 
of our childhood, the companions of our youth, and 
the sins of our manhood, unanimously confirm our 
truthfulness. 

Starting, then, with our own experience, we are 
led to infer that those who were denied our advan- 
tages will certainly be compelled to adopt the same 
humble language. If the child of pious parents, 
£vho by divine power was in youth brought to know 
the Lord, feels constrained to acknowledge that 
once he did not esteem the Saviour, shall the man 
whose education was irreligion, whose childhood 



THE DESPISED FRIEND. 11 

was riot, whose youth was license, and whose ma- 
turity was crime, be able to adopt language less 
humiliating ? ~No ; we believe that all men of this 
class, who are now redeemed from the hand of the 
enemy, will readily acknowledge that they were 
the blind neglecters of the beauties of our glorious 
Emmanuel. Aye, more, we venture to challenge 
the " Church of the first-born" to produce a single 
saint who did not once pass by the cross with indif- 
ference, if not contempt. 

Whether we review the " noble army of mar- 
tyrs," "the goodly fellowship of the prophets," "the 
glorious company of the apostles," or "the holy 
Church throughout all the world," we shall not dis- 
cover a single lover of the adorable Redeemer who 
will not join the general confession, " "We esteemed 
him not." 

Pause, attentive reader, and ask thyself whether 
thou dost esteem him now; for possibly it may 
happen that thou hast not as yet seen in him any 
" beauty that thou shouldest desire him," nor canst 
thou subscribe to the exclamation of the spouse, 
" Yea, he is altogether lovely." Should this be 
thine unhappy condition, a meditation thereon mayj 
under the Holy Spirit's influence, be of much use 
to thee ; and I beseech thee, while we unfold the 
secrets of what was once our prison-house, be thou 
intensely anxious that by any means thou also may- 
est escape a bondage which deprives thee of joy 



12 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

here, and will shut thee out from bliss here- 
after. 

We propose to endeavour first of all to bring the 
fact of our light estimation of Jesus vividly before 
our eye ; then, secondly, we will discuss the causes 
of this folly ; and, thirdly, seek to excite emotions 
proper to such a mournful contemplation. 

I. Let us go to the potter's house, and view the 
unshapen clay which we once were ; let us remem- 
ber "the rock whence we were hewn," and the 
"hole of the pit from which we were digged," 
that we may with deeper feeling repeat the text, 
" "We esteemed him not." Let us here seriously 
peruse the diary of memory, for there the witnesses 
of our guilt have faithfully recorded their names. 

We pause, and consider first our overt acts of sin, 
for these lie like immense boulders on the sides of 
the hill of life, sure testifiers to the rock within. 

Few men would dare to read their own autobi- 
ography, if all their deeds were recorded in it ; few 
can look back upon their entire career without a 
blush. " We have all sinned and come short of 
his glory." None of us can lay claim to perfection. 
True, at times a forgetful self-complacency bids us 
exult in the virtue of our lives ; but when faithful 
memory awakes, how instantly she dispels the illu- 
sion? She waves her magic wand, and in the 
king's palace, frogs arise in multitudes ; the pure 



THE DESPISED FED3ND. 13 

rivers at her glance become blood ; the whole land 
is creeping with loathsomeness. Where we ima- 
gined purity, lo, imperfection ariseth. The snow- 
wreath of satisfaction melts before the sun of truth ; 
the nectared bowl of gratulation is embittered by 
sad remembrances ; while, under the glass of 
honesty, the deformities and irregularities of a 
life apparently correct are rendered, alas ! too 
visible. 

Let the Christian, whose hair is whitened by the 
sunlight of heaven, tell his life-long story. He may 
have been one of the most upright and moral, but 
there will be one dark spot in his history, upon 
which he will shed the tear of penitence, because 
then he knew not the fear of the Lord. Let yon 
heroic warrior of Jesus recount his deeds ; but he 
too points to deep scars, the offspring of wounds re- 
ceived in the service of the Evil One. Some 
amongst our chosen men, in their days of unregene- 
racy, were notorious for guilt, and could well write 
with Bunyan* — " As for my own natural life, for 
the time that I was without God in the world, 
it was, indeed, according to the course of this world 
and the spirit that now worketh in the children of 
disobedience (Eph. ii. 2, 3). It was my delight to 
be taken captive by the devil at his will (2 Tim. ii. 
26), being filled with all unrighteousness ; the 

* Grace Abounding. 



14 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

which did also so strongly work, both in my heart 
and life, that I had but few equals, both for curs- 
ing, swearing, lying, and blaspheming the holy 
name of God." Suffice it, however, that by each 
of us open sins have been committed, which mani- 
fest that " we esteemed him not." 

Could we have rebelled against our Father with 
so high a hand, if his son had been the object of 
our love ? Should we have so perpetually 'tram- 
pled on the commands of a venerated Jesus ? 
Could we have done such despite to his authority, 
if our hearts had been knit to his adorable person ? 
Could we have sinned so terribly, if Calvary had 
been dear to us ? Nay ; surely our clouds of trans- 
gressions testify our former want of love to him. 
Had we esteemed the God-man, should -we so 
entirely have neglected his claims? could we have 
wholly forgotten his loving words of command ? 
Do men insult the persons they admire? "Will 
they commit high treason against a king they love ? 
"Will they slight the person they esteem, or wan- 
tonly make sport of him they venerate ? And yet 
we have done all this, and more ; whereby the 
least word of flattery concerning any natural love 
to Christ is rendered to our now honest hearts as 
hateful as* the serpent's hiss. These iniquities 
might not so sternly prove us to have despised our 
Lord had they been accompanied by some little 
service to him. Even now, when we do l^e his 



THE DESPISED FRIEND. 15 

name, we are oft unfaithful, but now our affection 
helps us " to creep in service where we cannot 
go ;" but before our acts were none of them sea- 
soned with the salt of sincere affection, but were 
all full of the gall of bitterness. O beloved, let us 
not seek to avoid the weight of this evidence, but 
let us own that our gracious Lord has much to lay 
to our charge, since we chose to obey Satan rather 
than the Captain of salvation, and preferred sin to 
holiness. 

Let the self-conceited Pharisee boast that he was 
born free — we see on our wrists the red marks of 
the iron ; let him glory that he was never blind — 
our eyes can yet remember the darkness of Egypt, 
in which we discerned not the morning star. Others 
may desire the honour of a merited salvation — we 
know that our highest ambition can only hope for 
pardon and acceptance by grace alone ; and well 
we remember the hour when the only channel of 
that grace was despised or neglected by us. 

The Booh of Truth shall next witness against us. 
The time is not yet erased from memory when this 
sacred fount of living water was unopened by us, 
our evil hearts placed a stone over the mouth of the 
well, which even conscience could not remove. 
Bible dust once denied our lingers ; the blessed vo- 
lume was the least sought after of all the books in 
the library, 

Though now we can truly say that His word is 



16 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

" a matchless temple where we delight to be, to 
cotemplate the beauty, the symmetry, and the mag- 
nificence of the structure, to increase our awe, and 
excite our devotion to the Deity there preached 
and adored ;"* yet at one sad period of our lives 
we refused to tread the jewelled floor of the tem- 
ple, or when from custom's sake we entered it, we 
paced it with hurried tread, unmindful of its sanc- 
tity, heedless of its beauty, ignorant of its glories, 
and unsubdued by its majesty. 

Now we can appreciate Herbert's rapturous affec- 
tion expressed in his poem : — 

" Oh book ! infinite sweetness! let my heart 
Suck every letter, and a honey gain, 
Precious for any grief in any part ; 
To clear the breast, to mollify all pain." 

But then every ephemeral poem or trifling novel 
could move our hearts a thousand times more easily 
than this "book of stars," "this god of books." 
Ah ! well doth this neglected Bible prove us to 
have esteemed Jesus but lightly. Yerily, had we 
been full of affection to him, we should have sought 
him in his word. Here he doth unrobe himself, 
showing his inmost heart. Here each page is 
stained with drops of his blood, or emblazoned with 
rays of his glory. At every turn we see him, as 

* Boyle. 



THE DESPISED FRIEND. 17 

divine and human, as dying and yet alive, as bu- 
ried but now risen, as the victim and the priest, as 
the prince aijd saviour, and in all those various 
offices, relationships and conditions, each of which 
render hini dear to his people and precious to his 
saints. Oh let us kneel before the Lord, and own 
that "we esteemed him not," or else we should 
have walked with him in the fields of Scripture, and 
held communion with him in the spice-beds of in- 
spiration. 

The Throne of Grace, so long unvisited by us, 
equally proclaims our former guilt. Seldom were 
our cries heard in heaven ; our petitions were for- 
mal and lifeless, dying on the lip which carelessly 
pronounced them. Oh sad state of crime, when 
the holy offices of adoration were unfulfilled, the 
censer of praise smoked not with a savour accepta- 
ble unto the Lord, nor were the vials of prayer fra- 
grant with precious odours ! 

Unwhitened by devotion, the days of the calen- 
dar were black with sin ; unimpeded by our sup- 
plication, the angel of judgment speeded his way 
to our destruction. At the thought of those days 
of sinful silence, our minds are humbled in the 
dust ; and never can we visit the mercy-seat with- 
out adoring the grace which affords despisers a 
ready welcome. 

But why went not " our heart in pilgrimage 2" 
Why sung we not that " tune which all things hear 



18 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

and fear ?" Why fed we not at " the Church's 
banquet," on this "exalted manna?" "What an- 
swer can we give more full and complete than this 
— " We esteemed him not ?" Our little regard of 
Jesus kept us from his throne : for true affection 
would have availed itself of the ready access which 
prayer affords to the secret chamber of Jesus, and 
would thereby have taken her fill of loves. Can 
we now forsake the throne ? JSTo ; our happiest 
moments are spent upon our knees, for there Jesus 
manifests himself to us. We prize the society of 
this best of friends, for his divine countenance 
" giveth such an inward decking to the house where 
he lodgeth, that proudest palaces have cause to 
envy the gilding." We delight to frequent the 
shades of secrecy, for there our Saviour allows us 
to unbosom our joys and sorrows, and roll them 
alike on him. 

O Lamb of God ! our prayerlessness bids us con- 
fess that once we considered thee to have neither 
form nor comeliness. 

Furthermore, our avoidance of the people of God 
confirms the humiliating truth. We who now stand 
in the " sacramental host of God's elect," glorying 
in the brotherhood of the righteous, were once 
" strangers and foreigners." The language of Ca- 
naan was to our ear either an unmeaning babble at 
which we scoffed, a harsh jargon which we sought 
not to imitate, or an " unknown tongue" above our 



THE DESPISED FEIEND. 19 

powers of interpretation. The heirs of life were 
either despised as " earthen pitchers," the work of 
the hands of the potter, or we removed from their 
society, conscious that we were not fit compeers for 
the "precious sons of Zion, comparable to fine 
gold." Many have been the weary looks which we 
cast upon the time-piece w T hen, in pious company, 
the theme has been too spiritual for our grovelling 
understanding ; full often have we preferred 
the friendship of the laughing worldling to that of 
the more serious believer. 

Need we ask the source of this dislike ? The bit- 
ter stream is not like the river of Egypt, silent as 
to its source : it proclaims its own origin plainly 
enough ; and the ear of self-partiality cannot be 
deaf to the truthful sound — " Ye loved not the ser- 
vants, because ye esteemed not their master ; ye 
dwelt not amid the brethren, for ye had no friend- 
ship towards the firstborn of the family." 

One of the plainest evidences of alienation from 
God is a want of attachment to his people. In a 
greater or less degree this once existed in each of us. 
True, there were some Christians whose presence 
always afforded us pleasure ; but we must be aware 
that our delight in their company was occasioned 
more by the affability of their manners, or the win- 
ning style of their address, than by the fact of their 
intrinsic excellence. "We valued the gem for its 
Betting, but a common pebble in the same ring 



20 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

would have equally engrossed our attention. The 
saints, as saints, were not our chosen friends, nor 
could we say, " I am a companion of all those that 
fear thee." All hail, thou leader of the host ! we 
boldly own that from the moment when we first 
loved thy person, all thy followers have been dear 
to us, there's not a lamb amongst thy flock we 
would disdain to feed ; thy servants may be mocked 
by contempt, persecuted by cruelty, branded with 
infamy, oppressed by power, humbled by poverty, 
and forgotten by fame ; but to us they are the " ex- 
cellent of the earth," and we are not ashamed to 
call them brethren. 

Such sentiments are the finest products of esteem 
for the Redeemer, and their former absence is con- 
clusive evidence that we then " esteemed him not." 
We have no further need of aid in this self-con- 
demnation. 

Broken Sabbaths start like warrior clansmen from 
the wild heath of time ; they point to the deserted 
sanctuary, for which they would execute a dread 
revenge did not the shield of Jesus cover us ; for. lo ! 
their bows are stringed with neglected ordinances, 
and their arrows are despised messages of mercy. 

But wherefore these accusers ? Conscience, the 
ranger of the soul, hath seen enough. He will af- 
firm that he hath beheld the ear closed to the woo- 
ing voice of the friend of sinners : that full often 
the eyes have been averted from the cross when 



THE DESPISED FRIEND. 21 

Jesus himself was visibly set forth. Let him give 
in his own evidence. Hear him. He saith : — I 
have witnessed the "barring of the heart to the en- 
trance of Jesus ; I have seen the whole man in 
arms to repair the breaches which a powerful min- 
ister had caused ; I have been present when the 
struggle against the Saviour has been as fierce as 
the ravening wolf. In vain the sprinkled blood to 
rivet the attention— heedless of Calvary or Gethse- 
mane, this mad soul refused to see the beauties of 
the Prince of Life, but rather spurned him from the 
heart which was his lawful throne. The sum and 
substance of my declaration is, " We esteemed him 
not." 

Away, then, O pride ! we know that " without 
the sovereign influence of God's extraordinary and 
immediate grace, men do very rarely put off all thy 
trappings, till they who are about them put on their 
winding-sheet;"* but if aught can lay thee in the 
grave, the retrospect of our treatment of our loving 
Lord might avail to do it. Pause then, O Chris- 
tian, and thus soliloquize : " I once scorned him 
who loved me with an everlasting love, I once es- 
teemed him as a root out of a dry ground. I served 
him not, I cared not for his blood, his cross, or his 
crown ; and yet I am now become one of his own 
children. Verily, to grace I will for ever sing :- 

* Clarendon. 



22 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

• Great God of wonders ! all thy ways 
Are matchless, godlike, and divine, 
But the fair glories of thy face 

More godlike and unrivalled shine : 
Who is a pardoning God like thee ? 
Or who hath grace so rich and free ?' " 

II. "We now enter upon an examination of the 
latent causes of this sin. When the disease is 
removed, it may be useful to learn its origin, that 
we may serve others and benefit ourselves. 

Our coldness towards the Saviour resulted pri- 
marily from the natural evil of our hearts. We 
can plainly discern why the dissolute and repro- 
bate entertain but little affection for purity and 
excellence : the self-same reason may be given for 
our disregard of the incarnation of virtue in the 
person of our Lord Jesus. Sin is a madness, dis- 
qualifying the mind for sober judgment; a blind- 
ness, rendering the soul incapable of appreciating 
moral beauty ; it is in fact such a perversion of all 
the faculties, that under its terrible influence men 
will " call evil good, and good evil ; they will put 
darkness for light, and light for darkness; bitter 
for sweet, and sweet for bitter."* To us in our 
fallen condition fiends often appear more fair than 
angels, we mistake the gates of hell for the portals 
of bliss, and prefer the garnished lies of Satan to the 

* Isaiah v. 20. 



THE DESPISED FEIEND. 23 

eternal verities of the Most High. Kevenge, lust, 
ambition, pride, and self-will, are too often- exalted 
as the gods of man's idolatry ; while holiness, 
peace, contentment, and humility are viewed as 
unworthy of a serious thought. O sin, what hast 
thou done! or rather, what hast thou undone! 
Thou hast not been content to rob humanity of its 
crown, to drive it from its happy kingdom, to mar 
its royal garments, and despoil its treasure ; but 
thou hast done more than this ! It sufficed not to 
degrade and dishonour; thou hast even wounded 
thy victim ; thou hast blinded his eyes, stopped 
his ears, intoxicated his judgment, and gagged his 
conscience ; yea, the poison of thy venomed shaft 
hath poured death into the fountain. Thy malice 
hath pierced the heart of manhood, and thereby 
hast thou filled his veins with corruption and his 
bones with depravity. Yea, O monster, thou hast 
become a murderer, for thou hast made us dead in 
trespasses and sins ! 

This last word opens up the entire mystery ; foi 
if we are spiritually dead, it is of course impossible 
for us to know and reverence the Prince of glory. 
Can the dead be moved to ecstasies, or corpses 
excited to rapture ? Exercise your skill on yonder 
lifeless body. It has not yet become a carnival for 
worms. The frame is still complete, though life- 
less. Bring hither lute and harp; let melodies 
most sweet, and harmonies unequalled, attempt to 



24 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

move the man to pleasure : he smileth not at tin 
swelling strain, he weepeth not at the plaintive 
cadence ; yea, conld the orchestra of the redeemed 
pour forth their music, he would be deaf to the 
celestial charm. 

Will you assault the city by another gate? 
Place then before those eyes the choicest flowers 
that e'er were grown since Eden's plants were 
blasted. Doth he regard the loveliness of the rose 
or the whiteness of the lily ? Nay, the man know- 
eth no more of their sweetness than doth the water 
of Mlus of the lotus which it beareth on its bosom. 
Come, ye gales of Araby, and winds laden with 
the spicy odours of Ceylon ; let the incense of 
fragrant gums, of frankincense and myrrh, smoke 
before him ; yet, motionless as a statue, the nostril 
is not distended, nor doth pleasure sit upon the lip. 
Aye, and ye may bring to your aid more powerful 
means. Ye may combine the crash of the ava- 
lanche, the roar of the cataract, the fury of the 
ocean, the howling of the winds, the rumbling of 
the earthquake, and the roll of the thunder : but 
these sounds, united into one godlike shout, could 
not arouse the slumberer from his fatal couch. He 
is dead, doth in one word solve the mystery. So 
also we, though quickened by the Holy Ghost, 
were once dead in sin, and hence " we esteemed 
him not." Here is the root of all our misdeeds, 
the source of all our iniquity. 



THE DESPISED FRIEND. 25 

When we are asked to point out the parent of 
light, we turn our finger to the sun above ; and if 
the question be proposed, Whence cometh evil? 
we point within us to an evil heart of unbelief 
which departeth from the living God. 

The secondary causes of the folly which we once 
committed lie very near the surface, and may repay 
a moment's observation. Self-esteem had much to 
do with our ill-treatment of "the sinner's Friend." 
Conceit of our own deserts made us indifferent to 
the claims of one who had procured for us a per- 
fect righteousness. " The whole need not a 
physician :" and we felt insulted by the language 
of a gospel which spoke to us as undeserving 
beings. The Cross can have little power where 
pride conceals the necessity of a pardon ; a sacri- 
fice is little valued when we are unconscious of our 
need thereof. In our own opinion we were once 
most noble creatures ; the Pharisee's oration would 
have sincerely enough emanated from us. A few 
little trifles there might be which were not quite 
correct, but in the main we thought ourselves 
" rich and increased in goods ;" -and even when 
under the powerful voice of law we were made to 
discern our poverty, we yet hoped by future obe- 
dience to reverse the sentence, and were utterly 
unwilling to accept a salvation which required a 
renunciation of all merit and simple trust on the 

crucified Redeemer. Never until all the work of 

9 



26 THE SAINT AND HIS SAYIOTJE. 

our hands had been -unravelled, and onr fingers 
them&elves had become powerless, would we cease 
from our own labour, and leaving the spider's- web 
of man's doings, array ourselves in the garment of 
of free justification. No man will ever think 
much of Christ till he thinks little of himself. The 
lower our own views of ourselves become, the 
higher will our thoughts of Jesus be raided ; and 
only when self-annihilation is complete will the 
Son of God be our " all in all." 

Vain glory and self-esteem are fruitful parents of 
evil. Chrysostom calls self-love one of the devil's 
three great nets ; and Bernard styles it " an arrow 
which piercetli the soul through, and slays it ; a 
sly, insensible enemy, not perceived." Under the 
sad influence of this power we commonly h>ve him 
best who does us the most harm ; for the flatterer 
who feeds our vanity with pleasing cries of 
" Peace, peace," is far more regarded than that sin- 
cere friend, the blessed Jesus, who earnestly warns 
us of our ill estate. But when selt-conndence is 
removed — when the soul is stripped by conviction 
— when the light of the spirit reveals the loath- 
some state of the heart — when the power ol the 
creature fails, how precious is Jesus! As the 
drowning mariner clutches the floating spar — as 
the dying man looks to some great physician — as 
the criminal values his pardon, so do we then 
esteem the deliverer of our souls as the Prince of 



THE DESPISED FKIEND. 27 

the kings of the earth. Self-loathing begets an 
ardent passion for the gracious " lover of our 
souls," but self- complacency hides his glories from 
us. 

Love of the world has also its share in using this 
dear friend so ill. When he knocked at the door 
we refused him admittance, because another had 
already entered. We had each chosen another 
husband to whom we basely gave away our hearts. 
" Give me wealth," said one. Jesus replied, 
" Here am I; I am better than the riches of Egypt, 
and my reproach is more to be desired than hidden 
treasures." The answer was, "Thou art not the 
wealth that I seek for ; I pant not for an airy 
wealth like thine, O Jesus ! I do not care for a 
wealth above in the future — I desire a wealth here 
in the present ; I want a treasure that I can grasp 
now; I want gold that will buy me a house, a 
farm, and estate ; I long for the sparkling jewel 
that will adorn my fingers ; I ask thee not for that 
which is hereafter ; I will seek for that when years 
have passed away." 

Another of us cried, " I ask for health, for I am 
sick." The best physician appears, and gently 
promises, "I will heal thy soul, take. away thy 
leprosy, and make thee whole." " Nay, nay," we 
answered, " I ask not for that, O Jesus ! I ask to 
have a body that is strong, that I may ran like 
Asahel, or wrestle like an Hercules ; I long to be 



28 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

freed from pain of body, but I do not ask for health 
of soul, that is not what I require." A third 
implored for happiness. "Listen to me," said 
Jesus, "my ways are ways of pleasantness, and all 
my paths are peace." " Not the joy for which I 
sigh," we hastily replied ; " I ask the cup filled to 
the brirn, that I may drink it merrily ; I love the 
jovial evening, and the joyous day, I want the 
dance, the revelry, and other fair delights of this 
world ; give your hereafter to those who are enthu- 
siasts; — let them live on hope ; I prefer this world 
and the present.'' 

Thus did we each in a different fashion set our 
affection on things below, and despise the things 
above. Surely he was no ill painter who thus 
sketched us to the life with his graphic pencil: 
" The interpreter took them apart again, and had 
them into a room where was a man that could look 
no-ways but downwards, with a muck-rake in his 
hand ; there stood also one over his head with a 
celestial crown in his hand, and proffered him that 
crown for his muck-rake ; but the man did neither 
look up nor regard, but raked to himself the straws 
and dust of the floor." 

While we love the world, " the love of the father 
is not in us ;"* nor the love of Jesus the son. 
Two masters we cannot serve. The world and 

* 1 John ii. 15. 



THE DESPISED FBIEND. 29 

Jesus never will agree We must be able to sing 
the first portion of Madame Guion's stanza before 
we can truly join in its concluding words : 

" Adieu ! ye rain delights of earth, 
Insipid sports, and childish mirth, 

I taste no sweets in you ; 
Unknown delights are in the Cross, 
All joy beside to me is dross; 
And Jesus thought so too."' 

It would be a great omission did we not observe 
that our ignorance of Christ was a main cause of 
our want of love towards him. We now see that 
to know Christ is to love him. It is impossible to 
have a vision of his face, to behold his person, or 
understand his offices, without feeling our souls 
warmed towards him. Such is the beauty of our 
blessed Lord, that all men, save the spiritually 
blind, pay willing homage to him. It needs no 
eloquence to set forth Christ to those who see him 
by faith, for in truth he is his own orator ; his glory 
speaks, his condescension speaks, his life speaks, 
and, above all, his death speaks ; and what these 
utter without sound, the heart receiveth willingly. 

Jesus is " curtained from the sight of the gross 
world ' ? by the wilful unbelief of mankind, or else 
the sight of him would have begotten veneration 
for him. Men know not the gold which lies in the 
mine of Christ Jesus, or surely they would dig in 



SO THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

it night and day. They have not yet discovered 
the pearl of great price, or they would have sold 
their all to buy the field wherein it lies. The 
person of Christ strikes eloquence dumb when it 
would describe him ; it palsies the artist's arm 
when with fair colours he would portray him ; it 
would o'ermatch the sculptor to carve his image 
even were it possible to chisel it in a massive block 
of diamond. There is nought in nature comparable 
to him. Before his radiance the brilliance of the 
sun is dimmed ; yea, nothing can compete with 
him, and heaven itself blushes at its own plainness 
of countenance when his " altogether lovely " per- 
son is beheld. Ah, ye who pass him by without 
regard, it is well said by Rutherford, " Oh if you 
knew him, and saw his beauty, your love, your 
heart, your desires, would close with him and 
cleave to him. Love, by nature, when it seeth, 
cannot but cast out its spirit and strength upon 
amiable objects, and good things, and things love- 
worthy; and what fairer thing is there than Christ ?" 
The Jewish world crucified him because they knew 
not their king ; and we rejected him because we 
had not seen his adaptation to our wants, and 
believed not the love he bore to our souls. We 
can all thus soliloquize with Augustine : — " There 
was a great dark cloud of vanity before mine eyes, 
so that I could not see the sun of justice and the 
light of truth ; I, being the son of darkness, was 



THE DESPISED FEIEND. 31 

involved in darkness ; I loved my darkness, be 
cause 1 knew not thy light ; I was blind, and loved 
my blindness, and did walk from darkness to dark- 
ness ; but Lord, thou art my God, who hast led 
me from darkness and the shadow of deatli ; hast 
called me into this glorious light, and behold I 
see." Those days of soul-eclipse are gone, but 
never can we too much bewail, them. Sad were 
those hours when the morning star shone not, when 
the Cross had no charms, and the glorious Redeemer 
no esteem. Could tears obliterate them from the 
annals of the past, our eyes should empty their 
cisterns ere our cheeks should be dry — could 
prayers recall them, we would besiege the throne 
with incessant supplications. They are gone, alas ! 
beyond the arm of even omnipotence to restore 
them ; but we rejoice to see their iniquity blotted 
out and their sin entirely covered. 

The river of sinful neglect of Jesus has doubtless 
other tributary sources which we cannot now tarry 
to notice. Contemplation need not here wander 
in a maze, she hath a path laid straight before her; 
unchain her feet and bid her conduct you over the 
field of memory, that with her you may count the 
other rills which fed this noxious stream. 

III. "We come now to the practical part of our 
meditation, and consider the emotions which ought 
to be excited by it. 



32 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOTJK. 

First, then, we think deep penitential sorrow will 
well become us. As tears are the fit moisture for 
the grave, as ashes are a fit crown for the head of 
mourning, so are penitential feelings the proper 
mementoes of conduct now forsaken and abhorred. 
We cannot understand the Christianity of those 
men who can narrate their past history with a kind 
of self-congratulation. We have met with some 
who will recount their former crimes with as much 
gusto as the old soldier tells his feats in arms. 
Such men will even blacken themselves to render 
their case more worthy of regard, and glory in 
their past sins as if they were ornaments to their 
new life. To such we say, Not thus thought Paul ; 
when speaking to the Romans, he said, " whereof 
ye are now ashamed." There are times when it is 
proper, beneficial, and praiseworthy for a con- 
verted man to fell the sad tale of his former life ; 
free grace is thus glorified, and divine power ex- 
tolled, and such a story of experience may serve 
to bring about faith in others who think themselves 
too vile ; but then let it be done in a right spirit, 
with expressions of unfeigned regret and repen- 
tance. "We object not to the narration of the deeds 
of our unregenerate condition, but to the mode in 
which it is too often done. Let sin have its monu- 
ment, but let it be a heap of stones cast by the 
hands of execration — not a mausoleum erected b;j 
the hands of affection. Give it the burial of Ab 



THE DESPISED FRIEND. 33 

salom — let it not sleep in the sepulchre of the 
kings. 

Can we, beloved, enter the dark vault of our 
former ignorance without a feeling of oppressive 
gloom? Can we traverse the ruins of our mis- 
spent years without sighs of regret? Can we be- 
hold the havoc of our guilt, and smile at the 
destruction % Nay. It is ours to bewail what we 
cannot efface, and abhor what we cannot retract. 

O fellow-heir of the kingdom, let us go together 
to the throne of Jesus, that our tears may bathe 
his feet ; that, like Mary, we may make our grief 
a worshipper of his person. Let us seek some 
alabaster-box of very precious ointment wherewith 
to anoint him, or at any rate let our eyes supply 
a tribute of true gratitude. We approach his 
sacred person, and on his feet we see the impress 
of his love deep-cut by the piercing nails. Come 
now, my heart ! bewail that wound, for thou didst 
make it ; the soldier was but thy servant who did 
thy bidding, but the cruel act was thine. Note 
well his hands which firmly grasp thee ; they too 
have their scars ; and weep at the remembrance 
that these were made for thee. For thee he bore 
the ignominy of the cross, the pain of crucifixion. 
Turn not thine eyes away until the hole of the side 
has been well pondered. See there that frightful 
gash, deep mine which reacheth to his heart. And 
this, my soul, was done for thee! dost thou not 



34: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

Jove the sufferer? Yea, thou dost, with a love as 
deep and bottomless as the ocean ; but forget not 
that once thou didst despise him. Many a time 
hast thou slighted this gracious friend; thy hus- 
band was once hated by thee; thy beloved has 
often received contumely and scorn from thee. 
ISTot long ago thou didst mock, despise, and insult 
him. Hard words has thou spoken of him, and 
ill deeds hast thou done to him. His wooings 
thou didst disregard, the tender offerings of love 
thou didst trample under foot, and the deep anguish 
which he endured for thee was in thine ears an 
idle tale. What ! are the fountains dry ? When 
will thy sorrow find better cause for coining itself 
in tears ? Canst thou afford a silly story of a love- 
sick maid a tear or two, and shall not this — thyself 
and Jesus — move thy soul % He loved, and thou 
didst hate ; he died, yet thou didst scoff his agonies; 
he saved thee, and yet thou didst refuse to be his 
child. O base ingratitude! Clouds might be fit 
mourners to weep thee away in showers ; but yet 
we are oft hard as the granite rock, and cold as 
the mountain which storeth up i'ts snow, which it 
might well afford to lavish foith in rivers. We 
should long to feel the sweet pleasure of repent 
ance, for indeed it is no common delight. How<3 
has excellently described the joy of penitential 
grief in his " Delight in God :" — 

" There is pleasure mingled with such tears, and 



THE DESPISED FRIEND. 35 

\s ith those mournings which are not without hope, 
and which flow naturally and without force from 
a living principle within, as waters from their still 
freshly springing fountain. When the soul finds 
itself unbound and set at liberty, when it can freely 
pour out itself to God, dissolve kindly and melt 
before him, it doth it with regret only at what it 
hath done and been, not at what it is. now doing, 
except that it can do it no more ; affecting even 
to be infinite herein, while it yet sees it must be 
confined within some bounds. It loves to lie in 
the dust and abase itself; and is pleased with the 
humiliation, contrition, and brokenness of heart 
which repentance towards God includes in it. So 
that as God is delighted, with this sacrifice, so it is 
with the offering of it up to him. Many men 
apprehend a certain sweetness in revenge ; such 
a one finds it only in this just revenge upon him- 
self. How unexpressible a pleasure accompanies 
its devoting itself to God, when bemoaning itself, 
and returning with weeping and supplication, it 
says, ' Now, lo ! I come to thee, thou art the Lord 
my God, I have brought thee back thine own, what 
I had sacrilegiously alienated and stolen away, the 
heart which was gone astray, that hath been so 
long a vagabond and fugitive from thy blessed 
presence, service, and communication. Take now 
the soul which thou hast made ; possess thy own 
right ; enter upon it ; stamp it with the entire im- 



36 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVI0I3R. 

pression of thine own seal, and mark it for thine. 
Other lords shall no more have dominion. What 
have I to do any more with the idols wherewith I 
was wont to provoke thee to jealousy? I will now 
make mention of thy name, and of thine only. I 
bind myself to thee in everlasting bonds, in a cove- 
nant never to be forgotten.' " 

Let not a libation of tears be the only offering 
at the shrine of Jesus ; let us also rejoice with joy 
unspeakable. If we have need to lament our sin, 
how much more to rejoice at our pardon ! If our 
previous state moves us to tears, shall not our new 
condition cause our hearts to leap for joy ? Yes, 
we must, we will praise the Lord for his sovereign, 
distinguishing grace. We owe him an eternal 
song for this change in our position ; he has made 
us to differ, and this from mere unmerited mercy, 
since we, like others, " esteemed him not." He 
certainly did not elect us to the high dignity of 
union with himself because of any love we had 
toward him, for we confess the very reverse. It is 
said of the writer's sainted predecessor, Dr. Rip- 
pon, that when asked why God chose his people, 
he replied, " Because he chose them ;" and when 
the question was repeated, he answered yet again, 
" Because he did choose them, and if you ask me 
a hundred times I can give you no other reason." 
Verily it is " even so Father, because so it seemed 
good in thy sight." Let our gratitude for divine 



THE DESPISED FRIEND. 37 

grace leap forth in praise ; let our whole raan be 
vocal to his honour who has elected us in sover- 
eignty, redeemed us by blood, and called us by 
grace. 

Should we not also be moved to the deepest pros- 
tration of spirit at the remembrance of our guilt ? 
Ought not the subject of our present contempla- 
tion to be a stab in the very heart of pride % Come 
hither, Christian, and though now arrayed in the 
garments of salvation, behold here thy former 
nakedness. Boast not of thy riches, remember 
how sorry a beggar once thou wast. Glory not in 
thy virtues, they are exotics in thy heart ; remem- 
ber the deadly plants — the native growth of that 
evil soil. Stoop thyself to the earth, and though 
thou canst not veil thyself with wings as angels do, 
let repentance and self-abhorrence serve thee instead 
thereof. Think not that humility is weakness ; it 
shall supply the marrow of strength to thy bones. 
Stoop, and conquer ; bow thyself, and become 
invincible. The proud man has no power over his 
fellows ; the beasts of the forest tremble not at the 
loftiness of the giraffe, but the crouching lion is 
the monarch of the plain. He who esteems him- 
self but little, stands on a vantage-ground with his 
fellow-men. Like an eastern house, the heart has 
a lowly entrance, and every guest must bow his 
head ere he can cross the threshold. He who has 
felt his own ruin will not imagine the case of any 



38 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

to be hopeless ; nor will he think them too fallen 
to be worthy his regard. Though he may be a 
priest or Levite in the temple of his God, he will 
not feel degraded if he stain his hands in binding 
up the wounds of the victims of evil. Like the 
friend of publicans and sinners, he will seek out 
the sick who need a physician. Christianity has 
founded a colony for the outcasts of society. The 
founder of Rome welcomed to his new-built city 
the dregs of all the nations of the earth ; so let 
every Christian believe that Zion's inhabitants are 
to be gathered from haunts of sin and chambers of 
vice. How prone are we to forestal the damnation 
of men ! How often do we write in our book of 
doom the names of many whom we afterwards dis- 
cover to have been " ordained unto eternal life !" 
The astronomer will believe that the most erratic 
comet will yet accomplish its journey, and revisit 
our sphere ; but we give up those for lost, who 
have not wandered one-half the distance from the 
centre of light and life. We find an excuse for 
inaction in the fancied hopelessness of sinners ; 
while fastidious delicacy, by the fear of pollution, 
seeks to mask at once our indolence and pride. If 
we had right views of ourselves, we should judge 
none too base to be reclaimed, and should count it 
no dishonour to bear upon the shoulders of our 
sympathy, the most wandering of the flock. "We 
have amongst us too much of the spirit of " Stand 



THE DESPISED FEIEND. d\) 

by, for I am holier than thou." Those whom Jesus 
would have grasped by the hand, we will scarcely 
touch with a pair of tongs ; such is the pride of 
many professors, that they need but the name to 
be recognised at once as the true successors of the 
ancient Pharisees. If we were more like Christ, 
we should be more ready to hope for the hopeless, 
to value the worthless, and to love the depraved. 
The following anecdote, which the writer received 
from the lips of an esteemed minister of the Church 
of England, may perhaps, as a fact, plead more forci- 
bly than words. A clergyman of a parish in Ire- 
land, in the course of his visitations, had called 
upon every one of his flock with but one exception. 
This was a woman of most abandoned character, 
and he feared that by entering her house he might 
give occasion of offence to gainsayers, and bring 
dishonour upon his profession. One Sabbath, he 
observed her among the frequenters of his church, 
and for weeks after he noticed her attention to the 
word of life. He thought, too, that amid the sound 
of the responses he could detect one sweet and ear- 
nest voice, solemnly confessing sin, and imploring 
mercy. The bowels of his pity yearned over this 
fallen daughter of Eve ; he longed to ask her if 
her heart were indeed broken on account of sin ; 
and he intensely desired to speak with her con- 
cerning the abounding grace which, he hoped, had 
plucked her from the burning. Still, the same 



40 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

delicacy of feeling forbade him to enter the house , 
time after time he passed her door with longing 
look, anxious for her salvation, but jealous of his 
own honour. This lasted for a time, but at length 
it ended. One day, she called him to her, and 
with overflowing tears which well betrayed her 
bursting heart, she said, " sir I if your Master 
had been in this village half as long as you have, 
he would have called to see me long ago / for surely 
I am the chief of sinners, and therefore have most 
need of his mercy P We may conceive the melting 
of the pastor's heart, when he saw his conduct thus 
gently condemned by a comparison with his loving 
Master. From that time forth he resolved tc 
neglect none, but to gather even the " outcasts of 
Israel." Should we, by our meditation, be con 
strained to do likewise, we shall have derived no 
little benefit, and possibly some soul may have 
reason to bless God that our thoughts were directed 
into such a channel. May the gracious Spirit, who 
has promised to " lead us into all truth " by his 
holy influences, sanctify to our profit this visit to 
the house of our nativity, exciting in us all those 
emotions which are congenial to the subject, and 
leading us to actions in harmony with the grateful 
retrospect. 



TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. 



My Friend, — Although this book was written 
chiefly for the Lord's family, yet it may please the 
gracious Spirit to bless it to thine own soul. With 
this desire let me seriously entreat thee well to con- 
sider the condition thou art in. Thou art one who 
esteems not Jesus. This is a state, sad in itself by 
reason of thy loss of present delight in him ; but 
how much more terrible if thou dost remember the 
eternal consequences of refusing Christ. He is 
thine only real hope, and yet thou rejectest him. 
Thy salvation can only come through him, and yet 
thou dost wilfully remove thyself from him. A 
few more years will bring thee to the threshold of 
another world. It will go ill with thee if thou dost 
still " neglect this great salvation." Death will 
soon loosen thy girdle and break thy strength. 
What wilt thou do in the last hour of extremry 
without a Saviour? Judgment will follow on the 
heels of dissolution ; and when the insulted Saviour 

41 



42 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

sits upon the judgment-seat, how wilt thou face 
him? Wilt thou be able to bear the fury of his 
incensed majesty ? As oil, the softest of substances, 
doth burn the most fiercely, so doth love when it 
is angered. I bid thee bethink thyself, how thou 
wilt endure his ire. The eyes which once flowed 
with tears shall flash lightnings on thee. The 
hands which were nailed to the cross of redemption 
shall seize the thunderbolts of vengeance, and the 
voice which once in melting tones said, u Come ye 
weary," shall pronounce in thundering words the 
sentence, " Depart, ye cursed !" 

Art thou so besotted as to venture on so hazar- 
dous a course as continued rebellion? Dost thou 
wish to lie down in torment, and make thy bed in 
hell ? 

O my brother-immortal ! tarry here and ponder 
thy woeful estate ; and may the Spirit now manifest 
to thee thy lost and helpless condition, that so, 
stripped of self, thou may est seek my Master's 
righteousness. He says : — " Hove them that love 
me, and they that seek me early shall find meP . 






II. 

FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 

"Faithful are the wounds of a friend." — Prov. xxvii. 6, 



The death in sin, which we so much lamented in 
the last chapter, is now happily a thing of the past 
with ns. Divine grace has quickened us ; heavenly 
influence has preserved us ; and faithful promises 
have secured our spiritual immortality. It is now 
our delightful duty to adore the love which, even 
when we were dead in sins, was still planning deeds 
of kindness towards us ; and which in its own 
appointed time enlisted Omnipotence in our be- 
half, whereby we received life from the dead. 

In order to raise our hearts heavenward, and 
tune our lips to the psalmody of praise, let us, by 
the Spirit's gracious assistance, review the w r ay 
whereby the Lord led us to himself. 

Like ourselves, many of our readers will admit 
that the first they ever knew of Jesus was in the 
character of a faithful friend wounding us for sin. 

43 



44 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

Though at that time we knew not that love was 
mixed with every blow, yet now we perceive it to 
have been the kind plan of a gracious Saviour to 
bring us to himself. The Roman Emperor con- 
ferred freedom on a slave by smiting him on the 
ear : and Jesus sets as at liberty by a blow upon 
our heart. 

I. We shall dwell first upon the fact that all 
saved persons have oeen wounded. Neither in the 
Church militant nor the host triumphant is there 
one who received a new heart, and was reclaimed 
from sin, without a wound from Jesus. The pain 
may have been but slight, and the healing may 
have been speedy ; but in each case there has been 
a real bruise, which required a heavenly physician 
to heal. 

1. With some, this wounding commenced in 
early life; for as soon as infancy gave place to 
childhood, the rod was exercised upon certain of 
us. We can remember early convictions of sin, 
and apprehensions of the wrath of God on its ac- 
count. An awakened conscience in our most tender 
years drove us to the throne of mercy. Though we 
knew not the hand which chastened our spirit, yet 
did we " bear the yoke in our youth." How many 
were " the tender buds of hope," which we then 
put forth, alas ! too soon to be withered by youth- 
ful lusts ; how often were we " scared with /i/j/iA v 



faithful wotnsrrs. £t> 

and terrified with dreams, while the reproof of a 
parent, the death of a playfellow, or a solemn ser- 
mon made our hearts melt within us ! Truly, our 
goodness was but " as the morning cloud and the 
early dew ;" but who can tell how much each of 
these separate wonndings contributed toward that 
killing by the law, which proved to be the effec- 
tual work of God ? In each of these arousings we 
discover a gracious purpose ; we trace every one 
of these awakenings to His hand who watched over 
our path, determined to deliver us from our sins. 
The small end of that wedge which has since been 
driven home, wf§ inserted during these youthful 
hours of inward strife ; the ground of our heart 
was then enduring a ploughing preparatory to the 
seed. 

Let none despise the strivings of the Spirit in 
he hearts of the young ; let not boyish anxieties 
and juvenile repentances be lightly regarded. He 
incurs a fearful amount of guilt who in the least 
promotes the aim of the Evil One by trampling 
upon a tender conscience in a child. No one 
knows the age of the youngest child in hell ; and 
therefore none can guess at what age children be- 
come capable of conversion. We at least can bear 
our testimony to the fact that grace operates on 
some minds at a period almost too early for recol- 
lection. ISTor let it -1>e imagined that the feelings 
of the young are slight and superficial— they are 



46 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

frequently of the deepest character. The c* <y 
woundings of the Saviour are made upon he.* rts 
not yet rendered callous by worldliness and sensu- 
ality. The Christian whose lot it was to be smitten 
in his childhood, will well remember the deep 
search ings of heart and the keen convictions of 
soul which he endured. 

O beloved, how much have we to bless our Jesus 
for, and how much for winch to reprove ourselves ! 
Did we not stifle our conscience, and silence the 
voice of reproof? Were we not deaf to the warn- 
ing voice of our glorious Jesus ? When he smote 
us sorely, we returned not to kiss liis rod, but were 
as refractory as the bullock unaccustomed to the 
yoke. Our most solemn vows were only made to 
be broken ; our earnest prayers ceased when the 
outward pressure was removed ; and our partial 
reformations passed away like dreams of the night. 
Blessed be His name, he at last gave us the effec 
tual blow of grace ; but we must for ever stand in 
amazement at the patience which endured our ob 
stinacy, and persevered in its design of love. 

2. Many of the Lord's beloved ones have felt the 
rounds to be exceedingly painful. There are 
degrees in the bitterness of sorrow for sin ; all have 
not the same horrible apprehensions of destruc- 
tion ; but some there be who have drank the very 
wormwood and gall of repentance. Usually, such 
persons have been great sinners previously, 01 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 47 

become great saints in after life. They love much 
because they feel that much has been forgiven; 
their fearful bondage increases their gratitude for 
glorious liberty ; and the wretchedness of their 
natural poverty enhances their estimation of the 
riches of Jesus. The painful process is thus a 
gainful one ; but when it is endured it is indeed an 
exceeding fiery furnace — an oven that burnetii 
with vehement heat. He who hath had his feet 
fast in the stocks of conviction will never forget it 
till his dying day. Well do some of us call to 
mind the season when our true Friend smote our 
heart, with what we then thought the hand of a 
cruel one. Our mirth was turned into mourning, 
our songs to lamentations, our laughter into sigh- 
ing, and our joys to misery. Black thoughts 
haunted our benighted soul — dreary images of woe 
sat upon the throne of our imagination — sounds 
akin to the wailings of hell were frequent in our ears, 
unitedly making our entire man so full of agony 
that it could be compared to nothing but the portal 
of hell. During this period, our prayers were 
truly earnest when we could pray ; but at times a 
sense of tremendous guilt bound our lips, and 
choked our utterance. Now and then a faint 
gleam of hope lit up the scene for a moment, only 
to increase the gloom upon its departure. The 
nearer we approached to our Lord, the more 
sternly (we thought) he repelled as ; the more ear- 



4:8 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

nest our attempts at amendment^ the more heavy 
the lash fell upon our shoulders. The law grasped 
us with iron hand, and smote us with the scourge 
of vengeance ; conscience washed the quivering 
flesh with brine ; and despondency furnished us 
with a bed of thorns, upon which our poor man- 
gled frame found a hard couch. By night we 
dreamed of torment, by day we almost felt its pre- 
lude. In vain did we ask Moses to propitiate an 
angry God ; in vain did we attempt by vows to 
move his pity ; " the Breaker "* broke our hearts 
with his heavy hammer, and seemed intent to make 
our agonies intolerable. We dared not touch the 
hem of his garment, lest " Depart from me!" 
should be the only word he would afford us. A 
fearful looking-for of judgment and of fiery indig- 
nation wrought in us all manner of fears, suspi- 
cions, tremblings, despondings, and despairings. 

Old Burton was no ill limner when he thus, 
painted the soul under the pressure of a burden of 
guilt : — " Fear takes away their content, and dries 
the blood, wasteth the marrow, alters their coun- 
tenance, ' even in their greatest delights — singing, 
dancing, feasting — they are still (saith Lemnius) 
tortured in their souls.' It consumes them to 
nought. 'I am like a pelican in the wilderness 
(saith David of himself, temporarily afHicted) : an 

* Mic. ii. 13. 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 49 

owl, because of thine indignation.'* ' My heart 
trembleth within me, and the terrors of death have 
come upon me ; fear and trembling are come 
upon me, &c, at death's door.' 'Their soul 
abhorreth all manner of meat.'f Their sleep is (if 
it be any) unquiet, subject to fearful dreams and 
terrors. Peter, in his bonds, slept secure, for he 
knew God protected him. Tully makes it an argu- 
ment of .Roscius Amerinus' innocency (that he 
killed not his father) because he so securely slept. 
Those martyrs in the primitive Church were most 
cheerful and merry in the midst of their persecu- 
tions ; but it is far otherwise with these men : 
tossed in a sea, and that continually, without rest 
or intermission, they can think of nought that is 
pleasant ; i their conscience will not let them be in 
quiet;' in perpetual fear and anxiety, if they be 
not yet apprehended, they are in doubt still they 
shall be ready to betray themselves. As Cain did, 
he thinks every man will kill him ; ' and roar for 
the grief of heart,';): as David did, as Job did.§ 
c Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, 
and life to them that have a heavy heart? Which 
long for death ; and if it come not, search it more 
than treasures, and rejoice when they can find the 
grave.' They are generally weary of their lives : 

* Ps. cii. 6, 10; lv. 4. f Ps. evil. 18. 

+ Ps. xxxviii. 8. § Job xx. 3, 21, 22, &c. 



50 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

a trembling heart they have, a sorrowful mind, and 
little or no rest. Terror ubique tremor, timor 
undique et undique terror : i tears, terrors, and 
affrights, in all places, at all times and seasons.' 
Cibum et jpotum jpertinaciter aversantur multi, 
nodum in scirj?o quceritantes , et culpam imaginan- 
tes ubi nulla est, as "Wierus writes,* ' thej refuse 
many of them meat and drink, cannot rest, aggra- 
vating still, and supposing grievous offences where 
there are none.' God's heavy wrath is kindled in 
their souls, and, notwithstanding their continual 
prayers and supplications to Christ Jesus, they 
have no release or ease at all, but a most intoler- 
able torment, and insufferable anguish of con- 
science ; and that makes them, through impatience, 
to murmur against God many times, to think hardly 
of him, and even, in some cases, seek to offer vio- 
lence to themselves. In the morning they wish for 
evening, and for morning in the evening ; for the 
sight of their eyes which they see, and fear of heart."f 
Hart knew the deep woundings of this faithful 
Friend ; witness the following lines : — 

" The Lord, from whom I long backslid, 

First check' d me with some gentle stings ; 
Turn'd on me, look'd, and softly chid, 
And bade me hope for greater things. 

" Soon to his bar he made me come, 
Arraign'd, convicted, cast, I stood, 
* De Laniiis, lib. iii. c. 1. f Deut. xxvii. 65, 6u 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 51 

Expecting from his mouth the doom* 
Of those who trample on his blood. 

" Fangs of remorse my conscience tore, 
Hell open'd hideous to my view ; 
And what I only heard before, 
I found, by sad experience, true. 

" Oh ! what a dismal state was this, 

What horrors shook my feeble frame I 
But, brethren, surely you can guess, 
For you, perhaps, have felt the same." 

Doubtless, some of our readers will cry out against 
such a description as being too harsh ; our only 
answer is, we have felt these things in a measure, 
and we testify what we do know. We do not, for one 
moment, teach that all or that many are thus led in a 
path strewn with horrors, and shrouded in gloom ; 
but we hope to be acknowledged, by those who 
have experienced the same, to have uttered no 
strange thing, but the simple tale, unexaggerated 
and unadorned. We need no better evidences to 
convince all Christian men of our truthfulness than 
those with which our own pastorate has furnished us. 
Many have we seen in this condition ; and we hope 
that not a few have been, by our instrumentality, 
led into the liberty wherewith Christ makes men 
free. 

Such terrible things are not necessary to true re- 



52 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

pentance, but they do at times accompany it. Let 
the man who is now floundering in the slongh of 
Despond take heart, for the slongh lieth right in * 
the middle of the way, and the best pilgrims have 
fallen into it. Your case, O soul under spiritual 
distress, is by no means singular ; and if it were so, 
it would not be necessarily desperate, for Omnipo- 
tence knoweth nothing of impossibilities, and grace 
stayeth not for our demerits. A dark cloud is no 
sign that the sun has lost his light ; and dark black 
convictions are no arguments that God has laid 
aside his mercy. Destruction and wrath may thun- 
der, but mercy can speak louder than both. One 
word from our Lord can still the waves and winds. 
Get thee beneath the tree of life, and not a drop of 
the shower of wrath will fall on thee. Fear not to go, 
for the cherubims which you see are not guards to 
prevent your approach, but ministers who will 
welcome your coming. Oh ! sit not down in sullen 
despair, harden not thine heart, for it is a friend 
that wounds thee. He has softened thee in the 
furnace ; he is now welding thee with his hammer. 
Let him slay thee, but do thou still trust in him. 
If he had meant to destroy thee, he would not have 
showed thee such things as these : love is in his 
heart when chiding is on his lips ; yea, his very words 
of reproof are so many "tokens for good." A fa- 
ther will not lift his hand against another man's 
child, but he exercises discipline upon his own ; 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 53 

even so the Lord your God chastens his own, but 
reserveth for the children of wrath retribution in 
another state of being. Bethink thee, also, that it 
is no small mercy to feel thy sin ; this proves that 
there is no mortification in thy frame, but life is 
there. To feel is an evidence of life ; and spiritual 
sorrow is a clear proof of life in the soul. More- 
over, there are thousands who would give worlds 
to be in the same condition as thou art ; they are 
grieving because they do not have those very feel- 
ings which are in thy case thy burden and plague. 
Multitudes envy thee thy groans, thy tears, and 
meltings ; yea, some advanced saints look at thee 
with admiration, and wish that their hearts were as 
tender as thine. Oh ! take courage ; the rough 
usage of to-day is an earnest of loving dealings by- 
and bye. It is in this manner the sheep is brought 
into the fold by the barking of the dog ; and in this 
fashion the ship is compelled by the storm to make 
for the nearest haven. Fly to Jesus, and believe 
his grace. 

3. A portion of the redeemed have had this 
season of wounding protracted for a long time. It 
was not one heavy fall of the rod, but stroke after 
stroke, repeated for months, and even years, in 
continual succession. John Bunyan was for many 
years an anxious and desponding seeker of mercy; 
and thousands more have trodden the valley of 
darkness for as long a time. Winters are not 



54 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

usually long in our favoured clime, but some years 
have seen the earth covered with snow and fettered 
in ice for many a dreary month ; so also many 
souls are soon cheered by the light of God's coun- 
tenance, but a few find, to their own sorrow, that 
at times the promise tarries. When the sun sets, 
we usually see him in the morning; but Paul, 
when in a tempest at sea, saw neither sun, moon, 
nor stars, for three days : many a tried soul hath 
been longer than this in finding light. All ships 
do not make speedy voyages: the peculiar build 
of the vessel, the winds, the waves, and the mis- 
takes of the captain, all affect the time of the jour- 
ney. Some seeds send forth their germs in a few 
days ; others abide long in darkness, hidden under 
the clods. The Lord can, when it is his good 
pleasure, send conviction and comfort as rapidly in 
succession as the flash of lightning and the clap of 
thunder; but at times he delays it for purposes 
which, though we know not now, we shall know 
hereafter. Men shall not have an Easter until they 
have had Lent ; but God's Lents are not all of the 
same duration. Let none, then, foolishly imagine 
that they have entered a long lane which will have 
no turning ; let them consider how long they were 
in sin, and they will have little cause to complain 
that they are so long in humiliation. When they 
remember their own ignorance, they will not think 
they are detained too long in the school of peni- 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 55 

tence. No man has any right to murmur because 
he is waiting a little for the King of mercy ; for if 
he considereth what he waits for, he will see it to 
be well worthy of a thousand years waiting. God 
may say, " To-day if ye will hear my voice ;" but 
thou, O sinner, hast no right to demand that he 
should hear thine at all, much less to-day. Great 
men often have petitioners in their halls, who will 
wait for hours, and come again and again to obtain 
promotion : surely, the God of heaven should be 
waited for by them that seek him. Thrice happy 
is he that getteth an early interview, and doubly 
blest is he who getteth one at all. Yet it does at 
times seem hard to stand at a door which opens not 
to repeated knocking — " hope deferred maketh the 
heart sick:" and it may be, some reader of this 
volume is driven to doubt the eventual result of 
his strivings and prayers ; he may be crying, 
"My life is spent with grief, and my years with 
sighing." 

" How oft have these bare knees been bent to gain 
The slender alms of one poor smile in vain ? 
How often tir'd with the fastidious light 
Have my faint lips implored the shades of night? 
How often have my nightly torments pray'd 
For ling'ring twilight, glutted with the shade ? 
Day worse than night, night worse than day appears; 
In fears I spend my nights, my days in tears : 
I moan unpitied, groan without relief, 
There is no end or measure of my grief. 



56 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

The branded slave, that tugs the weary oar, 
Obtains the Sabbath of a welcome shore ; 
His ransom' d stripes are heal'd ; his native soil 
Sweetens the mem'ry of his foreign toil : 
But ah ! my sorrows are not half so blest ; 
My labours find no point, my pains no rest : 
I barter sighs for tears, and tears for groans, 
Still vainly rolling Sisyphsean stones." 

Cease thy complaint, O mourner, the angel is on 
his way, and faith shall quicken his flight ; while 
thou art yet speaking, He hears, yea, before thou 
callest again, He may answer. thee. 

4. Divine sovereignty displays itself in the man- 
ner whereby souls are brought to Jesus ; for while 
many, as we have said, are smitten with deep 
wounds, there are perhaps a larger number whose 
smartings are less severe, and their suffering far 
less acute. Let us never make apologies for the 
superficial religion too common in the present day ; 
above all, let us never lead others to mistake fan- 
cies for realities, and evanescent feelings for endur- 
ing workings of grace. We fear too many are 
deluded with a false religion, which will be utterly 
consumed when the fire shall try all things ; and 
we solemnly warn our readers to rest short of 
nothing less than a real experience of grace within, 
true repentance, deep self-abhorrence, and com- 
plete subjection to salvation by grace. Yet we do 
believe and know that some of the Lord's family 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 57 

are, by his marvellous kindness, exempted from the 
exceeding rigour of the terrors of Sinai, and the 
excessive griefs engendered by the working of the 
Law. God openeth many hearts with gentle pick- 
locks, while with others he nseth the crowbar of 
terrible judgments. The wind of the Spirit, which 
bloweth where it listeth, also bloweth how it 
pleaseth : it is oftentimes a gentle gale, not always 
a hurricane. When the lofty palm of Zeilan put- 
teth forth its flower, the sheath bursts with a report 
which shakes the forest, but thousands of other 
flowers of equal value open in the morning, and 
the very dew-drops hear no sound ; so many souls 
blossom in mercy, and the world hears neither 
whirlwind nor tempest Showers frequently fall 
upon this earth too gently to be heard, though 
truly at other seasons the rattling drops proclaim 
them ; grace also " droppeth, like the gentle dew 
from heaven," on souls whom Jesus would favour, 
and they know nothing of heavy hail and drench- 
ing torrents. 

Let none doubt their calling because it came not 
with sound of the trumpet ; let them not sit down 
to measure their own feelings by those of other 
men, and because they are not precisely the same, 
at once conclude that they are no children of the 
kingdom. No two leaves upon a tree are precisely 
alike — variety is the rule of nature ; the line of 
beauty runs not in one undeviating course ; and in 

3* 



58 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

grace the same rule holds good. Do not, therefore, 
desire another man's repentance, or thy brother's 
apprehensions of wrath. Be not wishful to try the 
depth of the cavern of misery, but rather rejoice 
that thou hast a partial immunity from its glooms. 
Be concerned to flee for refuge to Jesus ; but ask 
not that the avenger of blood may almost overtake 
thee. Be content to enter the ark like a sheep led 
by its shepherd; desire not to come like an unruly 
bullock, which must be driven to the door with 
stripes. Adore the power which is not bound 
down to a unity of method, but which can open 
the eye by the clay and spittle, or by the simple 
touch of the finger. Jesus cried, with a loud voice, 
" Lazarus, come forth !" but the restoration was as 
easily effected when he gently said, " Maid, arise !" 
Zaccheus was called from the tree with a voice that 
the crowd could hear; but it was a still voice 
which in the garden said, " Mary." Can any man 
say but that equal benefits flowed from these varied 
voices? It is arrogance for any man to map out 
the path of the Eternal, or dictate to Jesus the 
methods of his mercy. Let us be content with 
gentle wounds, and let us not seek heavy blows as 
a proof of his faithfulness. 

Much more might have been discoursed concern- 
ing the means used by Providence to break the 
hard heart. Bereavement, disappointment, sick- 
ness, poverty, have had their share of uses; the 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 59 

Word preached, Scriptures read or reproofs re- 
ceived, have all been owned to conversion. It 
would be interesting to register the diverse ways 
of Jehovah's doings with sinners ; and it would be 
found a valuable occupation for a gathering of 
Christians in an evening party, if the question is 
passed round to each, and one acts as recorder for 
the rest ; thus interesting information may be ob- 
tained, and unprofitable talking avoided. 

II. We now seek to justify our assertion that 
these wounds are inflicted by " the friend" Christ 
Jesus. Our readers will observe that Jesus' name 
has not often occurred in the course of this chap- 
ter, but this has had its reasons ; in order that our 
words might be somewhat in accordance with the 
state of the soul during the operation of conviction, 
for then it discerns not Jesus, and knows nothing 
of his love. A faint idea of his saving power may 
arise, but it is only the hush between the succeed- 
ing gusts of wind. There is an atonement, but the 
tried conscience rejoices not therein, since the 
blood has never been applied ; HE is able to save 
unto the uttermost, but since the man has not come 
unto God by him, he as yet participates not in the 
salvation. Nevertheless, an unseen Jesus is a true 
Jesus ; and when we see him not, he is none the 
less present, working all our works in us. We 
would insist strongly on this point, because a very 



60 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOTJK. 

large number of mourning "sinners ascribe their 
sorrow to any source but the right one. 

1. We know those at present in the prison-house 
of conviction who believe themselves to be tor- 
mented by the devil, and are haunted by the 
dreadful thought that he is about to devour them, 
since hell seems to have begun in their souls. May 
the sacred Comforter render our words profitable 
to a heart so exercised. It is not an evil one who 
convinces the soul of sin, although the troubled 
spirit is prone to impute its arousings to the machi- 
nations of the devil. It is never the policy of the 
Prince of darkness to disturb his subjects; he la- 
bours to make them self-satisfied and content with 
their position ; spiritual uneasiness he looks upon 
with most crafty suspicion, since he sees therein 
the cause of desertion from his evil army. We do 
not assert that none of the terrors which accom- 
pany conviction are the works of the devil, for 
we believe they are ; but we maintain that the 
inward disturbance which originates the commotion 
is a work of love — a deed of divine compassion, 
and comes from no other fountain than eternal af- 
fection. The dust which surrounds the chariot may 
rise from beneath, but the chariot itself is paved 
with the love of heaven. The doubts, the despair- 
ings, and the hellish apprehensions may be the 
work of Diabolus, but the real attack is headed by 
Emmanuel, and it is from very fear that the true 






FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 61 

assault may be successful that Satan attempts an- 
other. Jesus sends an army to drive us to himself, 
and then the Prince of the powers of the air dis- 
patches a host to cut off our retreat to Calvary. So 
harassed is the mind when thus besieged, that like 
the warriors in old Troy, it mistakes friends for 
foes, not knowing how to discern them in the dark- 
ness and confusion. Let us labour a moment to 
point out the helmet of Jesus in the battle, that his 
blows may be distinguished from those of a cruel 
one. 

The ex]3erience which we have pictured leads us 
to abhor siu. Can Satan be the author of this? 
Is he become a lover of purity, or can an unclean 
spirit be the father of such a godly feeling % An 
adept in sin himself, will he seek to reveal its vile- 
ness? If indeed it delights him to see a soul 
unhappy here, would he not far rather allow a 
present bliss, in the malicious prospect of a certain 
future woe for his victim ? ¥e believe Satan to 
be exceedingly wise, but he would be penny wise 
and pound foolish if he should inflict a temporary 
torment on the sinner here, and so by his over 
haste lose his great object in ruining the man for 
ever. Devils may drive swine down a steep place 
into the sea ; but they never influenced swine to 
bemoan their condition, and beg to be made sheep. 
Satan might carry Jesus to a pinnacle of the 
Temple to tempt him ; but he never carried a pub- 



62 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 






lican to the house of prayer to smite on his breast 
and cry, " God be merciful to me a sinner I" 
Nothing which leads to Jesus can be of the Evil 
One; by this we may judge whether our inward 
trouble be of God or no. That which draws us to 
Jesus hath something of Jesus in it ; the waggons 
which fetch us to our Joseph may have rumbling 
wheels, but they are sent by Him. When our 
enemy cannot hinder the voice of God from being 
heard in the heart, he mingleth therewith such 
horrid yellings and bowlings that the coming sin- 
ner is in doubt whether the voice come from 
heaven or hell ; howbeit, the question may . be 
answered in this manner — if it be a harsh, reprov- 
ing voice which is heard, then Satan is angry, and is 
but counterfeiting, to prevent the word of God 
from having effect; but if it be a sweet voice 
seeking to draw the soul from an earnest and 
thorough repentance, then it cometh wholly from 
hell. O sinner, let a friend warn thee of the 
syren-song . of a smiling devil — it will be thine 
eternal shipwreck if thou dost not seal thine ears, 
and neglect his enchanting music ; but, on the 
other hand, be not afraid of the devil when he 
howleth like a Cerberus, for thus doth he seek to 
affright thee from the gate of heaven ; stay not for 
him, but be firmly persuaded that the inward goad 
which urges thee forward is in the hand of Jesus, 
who desires to hasten thee to the house of refuge 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 63 

which he has builded. Do not think that thy sharp 
pains are given thee by the old murderer, for they 
are the effects of the knife of " the beloved physi- 
cian." . Many a man under a surgical operation 
cries out as if he were about to be killed ; but if 
patience had its perfect work, he would look to the 
end more than to the means. It is hard indeed to 
rejoice under the heavy hand of a chastising 
Jesus ; but it will be somewhat easier to thee if 
thou bearest in mind that Jesus, and not the devil, 
is now smiting thee for thy sins. 

2. Very common also are the cases where the 
genuineness of conviction is doubted, because it is 
conceived to be merely an awakened conscience, 
and not the real lasting work of Jesus by his Holy 
Spirit. Well may this cause anxiety, if we reflect 
that the mere awakenings of conscience so often 
prove to be of no avail. How many reformations 
have been commenced by the command of con- 
science, and have soon crumbled beneath tempta- 
tion like an edifice of sand at the approach of the 
sea ! How many prayers have been forced forth 
like untimely figs by the warmth of a little natural 
feeling ! but such prayers have been displaced by 
the old language of indifference or iniquity. It is 
but just, therefore, that the anxious inquirer should 
very honestly examine his feelings whether they 
be of God. 

Conscience is that portion of the soul upon which 



64: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

the Spirit works in convincing of sin ; but con- 
science cannot of itself produce such a real death to 
sin as nmst be the experience of every Christian. 
It may, when stirred np by a powerful sermon or a 
solemn providence, alarm the whole town of Man- 
soul ; but the bursting of the gates and the break- 
ing of the bars of iron must come from another, 
hand. 

Natural conscience may he distinguished from 
supernatural grace by its being far more easily 
appeased. A small sop will suffice to stop the 
mouth of a conscience which, with all its boasted 
impartiality, is yet as truly depraved as any other 
portion of the man. We marvel at the Christian 
minister when he speaks of conscience as " God's 
vicegerent,' 7 styling it the judge who cannot be 
bribed, whereas the slightest observation would 
suffice to convince any man of the corruption of 
the conscience. How many commit acts with 
allowance which are gross sins, but concerning 
which their unenlightened conscience utters no 
threat ; and even when this partial censor does 
pronounce sentence of condemnation, how easily 
will the slightest promise of reformation avert his 
wrath, and induce him to palliate the sin ! 

Conscience, when thoroughly aroused, will speak 
with a thundering voice ; but even his voice cannot 
wake the dead — spiritual resurrection is the work 
of Deity alone. We have seen men swept with a 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 65 

very tornado of terrible thoughts and serious emo- 
tions ; but the hot wind has passed away in an 
hour, and has left no blessing behind it. There is 
no healing beneath the wings of a merely natural 
repentance, and its worthlessness may be proved 
by its transitory existence. 

Conscience will be content with reformation ; 
true grace will never rest till it receives a know- 
ledge of regeneration. Let us each be anxious to 
be possessors of nothing short of a real inwrought 
sorrow for sin, a deep sense of natural depravity, a 
true faith in the Lord Jesus, and actual possession 
of his Spirit ; whatever is short of this, lacks the 
vital elements of religion. If such is our feeling 
now — if we now pant for Jesus in all his glorious 
offices to be ours for ever, we need not fear but 
that He has wounded us in love, and is bringing us 
to his feet. If we now feel that nothing but the 
blood and righteousness of Christ Jesus can supply 
the wants we deplore, we may rejoice that grace 
has entered our heart, and will win the victory. 
A soul under the influence of the Holy Ghost will 
be insatiable in its longings for a Saviour ; you 
might as well attempt to fill a ship with honour, 
or a house with water, as a truly emptied soul with 

aught save the Lord Jesus. Is thy soul hungering 
with such a hunger that husks will not content 

thee ? Art thou thirsting until " thy tongue 

cleaveth to thy mouth " for the living waters of 



66 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

life ? Dost thou abhor all counterfeits, and look 
only for the good gold of the kingdom ? Art thou 
determined to have Christ or die ? Will nothing 
less than Jesus allay thy fears ? Then be of good 
cheer ; arise, He calleth thee ; cry unto him, and 
he will assuredly hear. 

Again, we think an excellent test may he found 
in the length of time which these feelings have en- 
dured. The awakenings of an unrenewed con- 
science soon pass away, and are not usually perma- 
nent in their character. Arising in a night, they 
perish also in a night. They are acute pains, but 
not chronic ; they are not a part of the man, but 
simply incidents in his history. Many a man drops 
the compliment of a tear when justice is at work 
with him ; but wiping that tear away, sunshine fol- 
lows the shower, and all is over. Hast thou, my 
reader, been a seeker of the Lord for a little while ? 
I beseech thee take it not for granted that thou art 
under the influence of the Spirit, but plead with 
God that thine own instability may not afresh be 
manifest in again forgetting what manner of man 
thou art. O ye whose momentary warmth is but 
as the crackling of blazing thorns, this is not the 
fire from heaven ; for that glorious flame is as eter- 
nal as its origin, being sustained by Omnipotence. 
O ye Pliables, who turn back at the first difficulty, 
crowns and kingdoms in the realms of the blessed 
are not intended for such as you ! Unstable as 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 67 

water, ye shall not excel ! Your lying vows have 
been so often heard in heaven, that justice frowns 
upon you. How have ye lied unto God, when ye 
have promised in the hour of sickness to turn to 
him with full purpose of heart ? How will your 
violated promises be swift witnesses to condemn 
you, when God shall fetch from the archives of the 
past the memorials of your treachery ! 

What can be more worthy of your solemn consi- 
deration than the words of Solomon — " He that be- 
ing often reproved hardeneth his neck, shall sud- 
denly be destroyed, and that without remedy."* 
It will go hard with some of you, my readers, who 
have abounded with hypocritical repentances 
when the Lord shall bring you into judgment. 
Ye have no excuse of ignorance ; ye cannot cloak 
your guilt with darkness ; " ye knew your duty, 
but ye did it not." You vowed in deceit ; you 
prayed in mockery ; you promised with falsehood. 
Surely, your own lips will say "Amen!" to the an- 
athema which shall call you " cursed ;" and the 
chambers of your memory will, from their sin- 
stained walls, reverberate the sentence, " Cursed ! 
cursed ! cursed !" 

But. has the penitent reader been under the hand 
of God for some time ? Have his impressions been 
abiding ? Do they bring forth the fruits of real 

* Prov. xxix. 1. 



68 THE SAJNT AND HIS SAVIOUE. 

longing after Jesus ? Then let him be of good 
cheer. The river which drieth not is the river of 
God ; the lighthouse which endureth the winds 
and waves is founded on a rock ; and the plant 
which is not plucked up our heavenly Father hath 
planted. The stony-ground hearer lost his verdure 
when the sun had arisen with burning heat ; but if 
out of an honest and good heart you have received 
the word which abideth for ever, you are one of 
those upon the good ground. "When the light re- 
mains in one position for a long time, it is not likely 
to be an ignis fatuus / but that which leapeth con- 
tinually from place to place, even the peasant 
knows to be the will-o'-the-wisp, and nothing more. 
True stars fall not ; shooting stars are no stars at 
all, but sundry gases which have long enough held 
together, and blaze at bursting. Rivers which, 
like Kishon, only flow with temporary torrents, 
may be useful to sweep away an invading army, 
but they cannot fertilise the surrounding country : 
so temporary conviction may bring destruction 
upon a host of sins, but it is not the river which 
makes glad the city of God. The works of God 
are abiding works ; he buildeth no houses of sand 
which fall at the rise of the flood, or the rushing of 
the wind. Hast thou, O convinced soul, been long 
under the hand of sorrow ? then take heart, this is 
all the more likely to be the hand of the Lord. If 
thou feelest, at all seasonable hours, a strong desire 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 69 

to seek his lace, and pour out thine heart before 
him, then doubtless thou art one of those who shall 
be called — " sought out," and thou shalt dwell in 
" a city not forsaken." The morning cloud goeth 
because it is but a cloud ; but the rain and the snow 
return not to heaven void, but water the earth, and 
make it bring forth and bud : if thy soul buddeth 
with desires, and bringeth forth prayers and tears, 
then have we hope for thee that God hath sent his 
word from above to dwell in thine heart. 

Best of all, when we are put out of all heart with 
our doings and with our own capabilities / then in- 
deed the Lord is there. So long as we cling in the 
least degree to self, we have ground to distrust the 
reality of the work within. The Spirit is a hum- 
bling spirit, and God sends him that he may hum- 
ble us. Every wound given by the Saviour is ac- 
companied by the voice, " This is against thy self- 
righteousness." Without this process of cutting 
and wounding, we should imagine ourselves to be 
something, whereas we are nothing ; we should 
think our fig-leaves to be as excellent as court 
robes, and our own filthy rags as white as the spot- 
less robe of Jesus. Hast thou, my friend been learn- 
ing the lesson, that " whatsoever is of nature's spin- 
ning must be all unravelled before the righteous- 
ness of Christ is put on ?"* Dost thou now per- 

* Thomas Wilcocks. 



70 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

ceive that u . nature can afford no balsam fit for soul 
cure?" Art thou despairing of all healing from 
the waters of Abana and Pharpar ? And wilt thou 
now gladly wash in Jordan and be clean ? If it be 
so with thee, then thou art no stranger to the influ- 
ences of Jesus' grace upon thine heart ; but if not, 
all thy repentances, thy tears, thy sighs, thy groans, 
must go for nothing, being but dross and dung in 
the sight of the rein-trying Jehovah. Self is the fly 
which spoils the whole pot of ointment ; but Jesus 
is the salt which makes the most poisonous river to 
become pure. To be weaned from our own works 
is the hardest weaning in the world. To die not 
only to all ideas of past merit, but to all hopes of 
future attainments, is a death which is as hard as 
that of the old giaut whom Greatheart slew. And 
yet this death is absolutely requisite before salva- 
tion, for unless we die to all but Christ, we can 
never live with Christ. 

The carnal professor talks very much of faith, of 
sanctification, of perfection ; but therein he offers 
sacrifice to himself as the great author of his own 
salvation ; like the Pharaoh of old, he writes upon 
the rocks, " I conquered these regions by these my 
shoulders." But not so he who has really been 
taught by the God of heaven ; he bows his head, 
and ascribes his deliverance wholly to the grace of 
the covenant God of Israel. By this, then, can thy 
state be tested — is self annihilated, or is it not ? 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 71 

Art thou looking upward, or art thou hoping that 
thine own arm shall bring salvation ? Thus may est 
thou best understand how thy soul standeth with 
regard to a work of grace. That which strippeth 
the creature of all comeliness, which marreth the 
beauty of pride, and staineth the glory of self-suffi- 
ciency, is from Jesus; but that which exalteth 
man, even though it make thee moral, amiable, and 
outwardly religious, is of the devil. Fear not the 
blow which smites thee to the ground — the lower 
thou liest the better ; but shun that which puffeth 
up and lifteth thee to the skies. Remember the 
Lord hath said, " And all the trees of the field shall 
know that I the Lord have brought down the high 
tree, have exalted the low tree, have dried^up the 
green tree, and have made the dry tree to flour- 
ish." * Be thou ever one of the low trees, for then 
Jesus will regard thee. He putteth down the 
mighty from their seats, but he exalteth the humble 
and meek. None are nearer mercy's door than 
those who are farthest from their own ; none are 
more likely to get a good word from Jesus than they 
who have not one word to say for themselves. He 
that is clean escaped from the hands of self, hath 
not a step between himself and acceptance. It is 
a good sign of a high tide of grace, when the sands 
of our own righteousness are covered. Take heart 

* Ezek. xvii. 24. 



72 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

that Christ loveth thee, when thou hast no heart 
for the work of self-saving. But never, never hope 
that a devout carriage, respectable demeanour, 
and upright conversation, will justify thee before 
a d— 

" For love of grace 
Lay not that flattering unction to your soul ; 
It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, 
Whiles rank corruption, mining all within, 
Infects unseen." 

Once more : when our sorrowful feelings drive us 
to a thorough renunciation of sin, then we may 
hope. How many there are who talk most rapidly 
of a deep experience, of corruption, and of indwell- 
ing sin, who never heartily renounce their evil 
ways ! But how vain is all their idle talk, while 
their lives show that they love sin, and delight in 
transgression ! He that is sorry for past sin, will 
be doubly careful to avoid all present acts of it. 
He is a hypocrite before God who talketh of a 
work within when there is no work without. Grace 
will enter a sinful heart, even though it be exceed- 
ing vile ; yet it will never make friendship with 
sin, but will at once commence to drive it out. He 
has altogether mistaken the nature of divine grace, 
who conceives it possible that he can be a partaker 
of it and yet be the slave of lust, or allow sin to 
reign in his mortal body. The promise runs — " Let 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 73 

the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous 
man his thoughts, and let him return unto the 
Lord, and he will have mercy upon him ; and to 
our God, for he will abundantly pardon ;" but we 
read not of a single word of comfort to him who 
goeth on in his iniquity. Though the high and 
lofty One will stoop over a wounded sinner, 
he will never do so while the weapons of rebellion 
are still in his hands: "There is no peace, saith 
my God, unto the wicked." Justice will never 
raise the siege simply because of our cries, or pro 
mises, or vows : the heart shall still be invested 
with terrors as long as the traitors are harboured 
within its gates. The Spirit saith, by the mouth 
of Paul, " For godly sorrow worketh repentance to 
salvation not to be repented of. For behold this 
self-same thing, that ye sorrowed after a godly 
sort, what carefulness it wrought in you, yea, what 
clearing of yourselves, yea, what indignation, yea, 
what fear, yea, what vehement desire, yea, what 
zeal, yea, what revenge ! In all things ye have 
approved yourselves in this matter." * That is no 
true repentance to eternal life, which hath not such 
blessed companions as these. Isaiah saith, "By 
this, therefore, shall the iniquity of Jacob be purg- 
ed ; and this is all the fruit to take away his sin ; 
when he maketh all the stones of the altar as chalk- 

* 2 Cor. vii. 10, 11. 

4: 



74 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

stones that are beaten in sunder, the groves and 
images shall not stand up."* JSTo sooner does peni- 
tence enter the heart than down goeth every idol, 
and every idolatrous altar. He whom the Lord 
calleth will, like Gideon, f cast down the altar of 
Baal, cut down the grove, and burn the bullock ; 
like Phineas, J his javelin will pierce through lusts ; 
and, as the sons of Levi § at the bidding of Moses, 
he will go through the camp, and slay the nearest 
and dearest of his bosom sins — his hand shall not 
spare, neither shall his eye pity : right hands will 
be cut off, and right eyes plucked out ; sin will be 
drowned in floods of godly sorrow, and the soul 
will desire to be free from that which it hateth, 
even to detestation. As Thomas Scott remarks, 
in his Treatise on Repentance, " This is the grand 
distinction betwixt true repentance and all false 
appearances. Though men be abundant in shedding 
tears, and make the most humiliating confessions, 
or most ample restitution ; though they openly re- 
tract their false principles, and are zealous in pro- 
moting true religion ; though they relate the most 
plausible story of experiences, and profess to be 
favoured with the most glorious manifestations; 
though they have strong confidence, high affec- 
tions, orthodox sentiments, exact judgment, and 

* Isa. xxvii. 9. \ Judg. vi. 28. 

\ Num. xxv, 1. § Ex. xxxiii. 26, 27. 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 75 

extensive knowledge : yet, except they ' do works 
meet for repentance,' all the rest is nothing, they 
are still in their sins. For the tree is known by its 
fruit ; and ' every tree that bringeth not forth good 
fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.' Yea, 
though Cain's terror, Judas's confession and resti- 
tution, Pharaoh's fair promises, Ahab's humiliation, 
Herod's reverencing the prophet, hearing him 
gladly, and doing many things — the stony-ground 
hearer's joy — together with the tongue of men and 
angels, the gifts of miracles and prophecies, and the 
knowledge of all mysteries, were combined in one 
man, they would not prove him a true penitent, so 
long as the love of one lust remained unmortified 
in his heart, or the practice of it was allowed in his 
life." Ask thyself, then, this all-important ques- 
tion, How is my soul affected by sin ? Do I hate 
it? do I avoid it? do I shun its very shadow? do I 
sincerely renounce it, even though by infirmity I fall 
into it ? Rest assured if thou canst not give a satis- 
factory answer to these questions thou art yet very 
far from the kingdom ; but if, with an honest heart, 
thou canst declare that sin and thyself are at an 
utter enmity, then " the seed of the woman" is be- 
gotten in thine heart, and dwelleth there the hope 
of glory. 

Believer, the hour is fresh in our memory when 
the divorce was signed between ourselves and our 
lusts. "We can rejoice that we have now dissolved 



76 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

our league with hell. But, oh, how much we owe 
to sovereign grace ! for we had never left the gar- 
lic and fleshpots of Egypt if the Passover had not 
been slain for us. Our inward man rejoiceth 
greatly at the recollection of the hour which pro- 
claimed eternal war between " the new creature in 
Christ Jesus" and the sin which reigneth unto 
death. It was a nisrht to be remembered : we 
crossed the Rubicon — peace was broken — old 
friendships ceased — the sword was unsheathed, and 
the scabbard thrown away. We were delivered 
from the power of darkness, and brought into " the 
kingdom of God's dear Son ;" and henceforth we 
no longer serve sin, but the life which we live in 
the flesh is a life of dependence on the Son of God, 
who loved us and gave himself for us. Let us test- 
ify that we never knew what it was to have peace 
with God until we had ceased to parley with sin. 
Not one drop of true comfort did we receive until 
we had foresworn for ever the former lusts of our 
ignorance : till then our mouths were filled with 
wormwood and gall, until we had cast out our iniqui- 
ties as loathsome and abominable ; but now, having 
renounced the works of darkness, " we have peace 
with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom 
also we have. received the atonement." 

If thou, reader, canst satisfactorily answer the 
solemn inquiries here proposed to thee, thy case is 
assuredly in the hands of Jesus the Lord : if thou 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 77 

hast continually bewailed thy sin, Last renounced 
thine own works, and escaped from, thy lusts, then 
thou art none other than one called of God to 
grace and glory. Be thou assured that natural 
conscience can never rise to such a height as this 
— it may skim the surface, but it cannot mount aloft. 
Mere nature never poured contempt on human 
righteousness, and never severed man from his sins. 
It needs a mighty one to carry away the gates 01 
the Gaza of our self-sufrlciency, or to lay our Philis- 
tine sins heaps upon heaps. God alone can send 
the sun of our own excellency back the needed de- 
grees of humility, and he alone can bid our sins 
stand still for ever. It is Jesus who hath smitten, 
if he hath with one blow uncrowned thee, and with 
another disarmed thee. He is wont to perform 
wonders ; but such as these are his own peculiar 
miracles. None but He can kill with one stone 
two such birds as our high-soaring righteousness 
and low-winged lust. If Goliath's head is taken 
from his shoulders, and his sword snatched from his 
hand, no doubt the conqueror is the Son of David. 
We give all glory and honor to the adorable name 
of Jesus, the Breaker, the Healer, our faithful 
Friend. 

3. It frequently occurs that the circumstances of 
the person at the time of conversion afford grave 
cause to doubt the divine character of the wound- 
ings which are felt. It is well known that severe 



78 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

sickness and prospect of death will produce a re- 
pentance so like to genuine, godly sorrow, that the 
wisest Christians have been misled by it. Many 
have we seen and heard of who have expressed the 
deepest contrition for past guilt, and have vehe- 
mently cried for mercy, with promises of amend- 
ment apparently as sincere as their confessions 
were truthful — who have conversed sweetly of par, 
don, of joy in the Spirit, and have even related 
ecstasies and marvellous manifestations ; and yet- 
with all this, have proved to be hypocrites, by re- 
turning at the first opportunity to their old courses 
of sin and folly. It hath happened unto them ac- 
cording to the proverb, " The dog hath returned to 
his vomit, and the sow that was washed to her 
wallowing in the mire." 

Pious Mr. Booth writes, " I pay more attention 
to people's lives than to their deaths. In all the 
visits I have paid to the sick during the course of 
a long ministry, I never met with one, who was not 
previously serious, that ever recovered from what 
he supposed the brink of death, who afterwards 
performed his vows and became religious, notwith- 
standing the very great appearance there was in 
their favour when they thought they could not 
recover." "We find, also, ready to our hand, in a 
valuable work,* the following facts, which are but 

* Arvine's Cyclopaedia of Anecdotes. 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 79 

specimens of a mass which might be given : — " A 
certain American physician, whose piety led him 
to attend, not only to people's bodies, but to their 
souls, stated that he had known a hundred or more 
instances in his practice, of persons who, in pros- 
pect of death, had been apparently converted, but 
had subsequently been restored to health. Out of 
them all he did not know of more than three who 
devoted themselves to the service of Christ after 
their recovery, or gave any evidence of genuine 
conversion. If, therefore, they had died, as they 
expected, have we not reason to believe that their 
hopes of heaven would have proved terrible delu- 
sions ? 

" A pious English physician once stated that he 
had known some three hundred sick persons who, 
soon expecting to die, had been led, as they sup- 
posed, to repentance of their sins, and saving faith 
in Christ, but had eventually been restored to 
health again. Only ten of all this number, so far 
as he knew, gave any evidence of being really re- 
generated. Soon after their recovery they plunged, 
as a general thing, into the follies and vices of the 
world. Who would trust, then, in such conver- 
sions V 

Such examples serve as a holy warning to us all, 
lest we too should only feel an excitement produced 
by terror, and should find the flame of piety utterly 
quenched when the cause of alarm is withdrawn. 



80 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

Some of us can trace our first serious thoughts to 
the bed of sickness, when, in the loneliness of our 
chamber, " We thought upon our ways, and turned 
our feet unto his testimonies."* But this very 
circumstance was at the time a source of doubt, 
for we said within ourselves, "Will this continue 
w T hen my sickness is removed, or shall I not find 
my apathy return, when again I enter on the busi- 
ness of the world ?" Our great anxiety was not 
lest we should die, but lest living we should find 
our holy feelings clear gone, and our piety evapo- 
rated. Possibly our reader is now sick, and this is 
his trouble ; let us help you through it. Of course, 
the best proof you can have of your own sincerity 
is that which you will receive when health returns, 
if you continue steadfast in the faith of Jesus, and 
follow on to know him. Perseverance, when the 
pressure is removed, will discover the reality of 
your repentance. The natural wounds inflicted by 
Providence are healed soon after the removal of 
the rod, and folly is not thereby brought out of the 
heart ; but when Jesus smites for sin, the wounds 
will smart even when the instrumental rod of cor- 
rection is removed, while " the blueness of the 
wound cleanseth away evil."f We, who had mary 
mock repentances ere we really turned to the living 
God, can now see the main spring of our error. 

* Prov. cix. 59. f Prov. xx. 30. 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 8i 

Every thief loves honesty when he finds the jail 
uneasy ; almost every murderer will regret that he 
slew a man when he is about to be executed for 
his crime : here is the first point of distinction 
which we beg our reader to observe. 

That repentance which is genuine ariseth not so 
much from dread of punishment as from fear of 
sin. It is not fear of damning, but fear of sinning, 
which makes the truly humbled cry out for grace. 
True, the fear of hell, engendered by the threaten- 
ings of the law, doth work in the soul much horror 
and dismay ; but it is not hell appearing exceeding 
dreadful, but sin becoming exceeding sinful and 
abominable, which is the effectual work of grace. 
Any man in his reason would tremble at everlast- 
ing burnings, more especially when by his nearness 
to the grave the heat of hell doth, as it were, scorch 
him ; but it is not every dying man that hates sin 
— yea, none do so unless the Lord hath had deal- 
ings with their souls. Say, then, dost thou hate 
hell or hate sin most ? for, verily, if there were no 
hell, the real penitent would love sin not one whit 
the more, and hate evil not one particle the less. 
Wouldst thou love to have thy sin and heaven 
too ? If thou wouldst, thou hast not a single spark 
of divine life in thy soul, for one spark would con- 
sume thy love to sin. Sin to a sin-sick soul is so 
desperate an evil that it would scarce be straining 
the truth to say that a real penitent had rather 

4* 



82 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

suffer the pains of hell without his sins than enter 
the bliss of heaven with them, if such things were 
possible. Sin, sin, sin, is the accursed thing which 
the living soul hateth. 

Again : saving repentance will most easily mani- 
fest itself when the subjects of our thoughts are 
most heavenly. By this we mean, if our sorrow 
only gushes forth when we are musing upon the 
doom of the wicked, and the wrath of God, we 
have then reason to suspect its evangelical charac- 
ter; but if contemplations of Jesus, of his cross, 
of heaven, of eternal love, of covenant grace, of 
pardoning blood and full redemption bring tears 
to our eyes, we may then rejoice that we sorrow 
after a godly sort. The sinner awakened by the 
Holy Spirit will find the source of his stream of 
sorrow not on the thorn-clad sides of Sinai, but 
on the grassy mound of Calvary. His cry will be, 
"O sin, I hate thee, for thou didst murder my 
Lord;" and his mournful dirge over his crucified 
Redeemer will be in plaintive words — 

" 'Twas you, my sins, ray cruel sins, 

His chief tormentors were ; 
Each of my crimes became a nail. 

And unbelief the spear ■ 
'Twas you that pull'd the vengeance down 

Upon his guiltless head ; 
Break, break, my heart, oh burst mine eyeg, 

And let my sorrows bleed." 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 83 

Y e who love the Lord, give jour assent to this our 
declaration, that love did melt you more than 
wrath, that the wooing voice did more affect you 
than the condemning sentence, and that hope did 
impel you more than fear. It was when viewing 
our Lord as crucified, dead, and buried that we 
most wept. He with his looks made us weep bit- 
terly, while the stern face of Moses caused us to 
tremble, but never laid us prostrate confessing our 
transgression. We sorrow because our offence is 
against Him, against his love, his blood, his grace, 
his heart of affection. Jesus is the name which 
subdues the stubborn heart, if it be truly brought 
into subjection to the Gospel. He is the rod which 
bringeth waters out of the rock, he is the hammer 
which breaketh the rock in pieces. 

Furthermore, saving repentance will render the 
conscience exceedingly tender, so that it will be 
pained to the quick at the very recollection of the 
smallest sin. Natural repentance crieth out at a 
few master-sins, which have been most glaring and 
heinous — the more especially if some visitor point 
them out as crimes of the blackest dye ; but when 
it hath executed one or two of these on the gallows 
of confession, it is content to let whole hosts of less 
notorious offenders escape without so much as a 
reprimand. Not so the man whose penitence is 
of divine origin — he hates the whole race of the 
Evil One; like Elijah he will cry, "Let none 



84 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOIJK. 

escape ; " lie will cut up to the best of his power 
every root of bitterness which may still remain, 
nor will he willingly harbour a single traitor in his 
breast. The secret sins, the every-day offences, 
the slight errors (as the world has it), the harmless 
follies, the little transgressions, the peccadilloes, all 
these will be dragged forth to death when the Lord 
searcheth the heart with the candle of his Spirit. 

Jesus never enters the soul of man to drive out 
one or two sins, nor even to overcome a band of 
vices to the exception of others ; his work is per- 
fect, not partial ; his cleansings are complete bap- 
tisms ; his purifyings tend to remove all our dross, 
and consume all our tin. He sweeps the heart 
from its dust as well as its Dagons ; he suffers not 
even the most insignificant spider of lust to spin 
its cobweb, with allowance, on the walls of his 
temple. All heinous sins and private sins, youth- 
ful sins and manhood's sins, sins of omission and 
of commission, of word and of deed, of thought 
and of imagination, sins against God or against 
man, ail will combine like a column of serpents in 
the desert to affright the new-born child of heaven ; 
and he will desire to see the head of every one of 
them broken beneath the heel of the destroyer of 
evil, Jesus, the seed of the woman. Believe not 
thyself to be truly awakened unless thou abhorrest 
sin in all its stages, from the embryo to the ripe 
fruit, and in all its shades, from the commonly 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 85 

allowed lust down to the open and detested crime. 
When Hannibal took oath of perpetual hatred to 
the Romans, he included in that oath plebeians as 
well as patricians ; so if thou art indeed at enmity 
with evil, thou wilt abhor all iniquity, even though 
it be of the very lowest degree. Beware that thou 
write not down affright at one sin as being repent- 
ance for all. 

There are, doubtless, other forms and phases. of 
doubt, but our space does not allow us to mention 
more, nor does the character of the volume require 
that we should expatiate on more of these than are 
the most usual causes of grief to the Lord's people. 
We beseech the ever-gracious Spirit to reveal the 
person of Jesus to every smitten sinner; to anoint 
his eyes with eye-salve, that he may see the heart 
of love which moves the hand of rebuke, and to 
guide every mourning seeker to the cross, whence 
pardon and comfort ever flow. It is none other 
than Jesus who thus frowns us to our senses, and 
chastises us to right reason ; may the Holy Ghost 
lead every troubled one to believe this encouraging 
doctrine, then shall our heart's desire be granted. 

We cannot, however, bring our remarks to a 
close until again we have urged the duty of self- 
examination, which is at once the most important 
and most neglected of all religious exercises. 

When we think how solemn is the alternative 
"saved" or " damned " we cannot but importune 




THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 



our readers, as they love their souls, to " examine 
themselves whether they be in the faith." Oh ! 
remember it will be all too late to decide this ques- 
tion soon, since it will cease to be a question. The 
time will have passed for hopeful changes and 
gracious discoveries ; the only changes will be to 
torments more excruciating, and discoveries then 
will but reveal horrors more and more bitterly 
astounding. We wonder not that men should 
anxiously inquire concerning their position ; we 
might marvel more that the most of them are so 
indifferent, so utterly careless to the things of the 
kingdom of heaven. It is not our body, our estate, 
our liberty, concerning which there is this question 
at law, it is a suit of far weightier nature — our 
eternal existence in heaven or hell. Let us nar- 
rowly inspect our innermost feelings ; let us search 
what manner of men we be ; let us rigidly scru- 
tinize our heart, and learn whether it be right with 
God or no. Let not the good opinion of our fel- 
low-men mislead us, but let us search for ourselves, 
lest we be found like the mariner who bought his 
bags of one who filled them not with biscuit but 
with stones, and he, relying on the merchant's 
word, found himself in the broad ocean without a 
morsel of food. Yet if good men tell us we are 
wrong, let us not despise their opinion, for it is 
more easy to deceive ourselves than the elect. He 
was not far from truth who said, " We strive as 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 87 

Lard to hide our hearts from ourselves as from 
others, and always with more success; for, in 
deciding upon our own case, we are both judge, 
and jury, and executioner; and where sophistry 
cannot overcome the first, or flattery the second, 
self-love is always ready to defeat the sentence by 
bribing the third — a bribe that in this case is never 
refused, because she always comes up to the 
price."* Since we are liable to be self-deceived, 
let us be the more vigilant, giving most earnest 
heed to every warning and reproof, lest the very 
warning which we slight should be that which 
might have shown us our danger. Many trades- 
men are ruined by neglecting their books ; but he 
who frequently casts up his accounts will know his 
own position, and avoid such things as would be 
hazardous or destructive. ISTo ship was ever 
wrecked by the captain's over- anxiety in taking 
his longitude and latitude ; but the wailing sea 
bears sad witness to the fate of careless mariners, 
who forgot their chart, and wantonly steered 
onward to rocks which prudent foresight would 
easily have avoided. . Let us not sleep as do others, 
but rouse ourselves to persevering watchfulness, 
by the solemn consideration that if we be at last 
mistaken in our soul's condition, the error can 
never be amended. Here, if one battle be lost, a 

* Colton. 



88 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

hopeful commander expects to retrieve his fortunes 
by future victory ; but let us once fail to overcome 
in the struggle of life, our defeat is everlasting. 
The bankrupt merchant cheers his spirit with the 
prospect of commencing trade again — business 
may yet prosper, competence may yet bless him, 
and even wealth may deign to fill his house with her 
hidden treasures ; but he who finds himself a bank- 
rupt in another world, without God, without Christ, 
without hope, must abide for ever penniless, craving, 
with a beggar's lip, the hopeless boon of one poor 
drop of water to cool his burning tongue. When 
life is over with the unrighteous all is over — where 
the tree falleth there it must for ever lie ; death is 
the Medusa's head, petrifying our condition — he 
that is unholy, shall be unholy still ; he that is 
unjust, must be unjust still. If there were the 
most remote possibility of rectifying our present 
errors in a future state of existence, we might have 
some excuse for superficial or infrequent investiga- 
tion ; this, however, is utterly out of the question, 
for grace is bounded by the grave. If we be in 
Christ, all that heaven knows of unimaginable 
bliss, of inconceivable glory, of unutterable ecstasy, 
shall be ours most richly to enjoy ; but if death 
shall find us out of Christ, horrors surpassing 
thought, terrors beyond the dreamings of despair, 
and tortures above the guess of misery, must be our 
doleful, desperate doom. How full of trembling is 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 89 

the thought, that multitudes of fair professors are 
now in hell : although they, like ourselves, once 
wore a goodly name, and hoped as others said of 
them, that they were ripening for glory ; whereas 
they were fattening for the slaughter, and were 
drugged for execution with the cup of delusion, 
dreaming all the while that they were drinking the 
wines on the lees, well refined. Surely, among the 
damned, there are none more horribly tormented 
in the flame than those who looked to walk the 
golden streets, but found themselves cast into 
outer darkness, where there is weeping, and wail- 
ing, and gnashing of teeth. The higher the pinna- 
cle from which we slip, the more fearful will be 
our fall ; crownless kings, beggared princes, and 
starving nobles ; are the more pitiable because of 
their former condition of affluence and grandeur : 
so also will fallen professors have a sad pre-emi- 
nence of damnation, from the very fact that they 
were once esteemed rich and increased in goods. 
When we consider the vast amount of unsound 
profession which prevails in this age, and which, 
like a smooth but shallow sea, doth scarcely conceal 
the rocks of hypocrisy — when we review the many 
lamentable falls which have lately occurred among 
the most eminent in the Church, we would lift up 
our voice like a trumpet, and with all our might 
entreat all men to be sure of their grounds of trust, 
lest it should come to pass that sandy foundations 



90 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 






should be discovered when total destruction has 
rendered it too late for anything but despair. 

O age of profession, put thyself in the crucible ! 
O nation of formalists, take heed lest ye receive the 
form and reject the Spirit! O reader, let us each 
commence a thorough trial of our own spirits ! 

" Oh ! what am I ? My soul awake, 
And an impartial survey take : 
Does no dark sign, no ground of fear, 
In practice or in heart appear ? 

" What image does my spirit bear ? 
Is Jesus form'd and living there ? 
Say, do his lineaments divine 
In thought, and word, and action, shine ? 

" Searcher of hearts ! oh search me still, 
The secrets of my soul reveal ; 
My fears remove, let me appear 
To God and my own conscience clear. 

" May I at that bless 1 d world arrive, 
Where Christ through all my soul shall live, 
And give full proof that he is there, 
Without one gloomy doubt or fear." 

III. "We close our chapter by the third remark 
— the wounds of our Jesus were faithful. Here 
proof will be entirely an unnecessary excess, but 
we think meditation will be a profitable engage- 
ment. Ah ! brethren, when we were groaning 
tinder the chastening hand of Jesus, we thought 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 91 

him cruel ; do we think so ill of him now ? We 
conceived that he was wroth with us, and would be 
implacable ; how have our surmises proved to be 
utterly confounded ! The abundant benefit which 
we now reap from the deep ploughing of our heart 
is enough of itself to reconcile us to the severity 
of the process. Precious is that wine which is 
pressed in the winefat of conviction ; pure is that 
gold which is dug from the mines of repentance ; 
and bright are those pearls which are found in the 
caverns of deep distress. We might never have 
known such deep humility if He had not humbled 
us. We had never been so separated from fleshly 
trusting had He not by his rod revealed the cor- 
ruption and disease of our heart. "We had never 
learned to comfort the feeble-minded, and confirm 
the weak, had he not made us ready to halt, and 
caused our sinew to shrink. If we have any power 
to console the weary, it is the result of our remem- 
brance of what we once suffered — for here lies onr 
power to sympathise. If we can now look down 
with scorn upon the boastings of vain, self-con- 
ceited man, it is because our own vaunted strength 
has utterly failed us, and made ns contemptible in 
our own eyes. If we can now plead with ardent 
desire for the souls of our fellow-men, and especi- 
ally if we feel a more than common passion for the 
salvation of sinners, we must attribute it in no 
small degree to the fact that we have been smitten 



92 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

for sin, and therefore knowing" the terrors of the 
Lord are constrained to persuade men. The labo- 
rious pastor, the fervent minister, the ardent evan- 
gelist, the faithful teacher, the powerful intercessor, 
can all trace the birth of their zeal to the sufferings 
they endured for sin, and the knowledge they 
thereby attained of its evil nature. We have ever 
drawn the sharpest arrows from the quiver of our 
own experience. We find no sword-blades so true 
in metal as those which have been forged in the 
furnace of soul-trouble. Aaron's rod, that budded, 
bore not one half so much fruit as the rod of the 
covenant, which is laid upon the back of every 
chosen child of God ; this alone may render us 
eternally grateful to the Saviour for his rebukes of 
love. 

We may pause for a moment over another 
thought, if we call to mind our deep depravity. 
We find within us a strong and deep-seated attach- 
ment to the world and its sinful pleasures ; our 
heart is still prone to wander, and our affections 
yet cleave to things below. Can we wonder then 
that it required a sharp knife to sever us at first 
from our lusts, which were then as dear to us as 
the members of our body ? so foul a disease could 
only be healed by frequent draughts of bitter medi- 
cine. Let us detest the sin which rendered such 
rough dealing necessary, but let us adore the 
Saviour who spared not the child for his crying. 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 93 

L our sin had been like the hyssop on the wall, 
our own hand might have gentry snapped the 
roots ; but having become lofty as a cedar of 
Lebanon, and firmly settled in its place, only the 
omnipotent voice of Jehovah could avail to break 
it : we will not therefore complain of the loudness 
of the thunder, but rejoice at the overturning of 
our sin. Will the man who is asleep in a burning 
house murmur at his deliverer for shaking him too 
roughly in his bed ? Would the traveller, totter- 
ing on the brink of a precipice, upbraid the friend 
who startled him from his reverie, and saved him 
from destruction ? Would not the harshest words 
and the roughest usage be acknowledged most 
heartily as blows of love and warnings of affection ? 
Best of all, when we view these matters in the light 
of eternity, how little are these slight and moment- 
ary afflictions compared with the doom thereby 
escaped, or the bliss afterwards attained ! Stand- 
ing where our ears can be filled with the wailings 
of the lost, where our eyes are grieved by sights 
of the hideous torments of the damned — contem- 
plating for an instant the fathomless depth of eter- 
nal misery, with all its deprivation, desperation, 
and aggravation — considering that we at this hour 
might have been in our own persons enduring the 
doom we deprecate, — surely it is easy work to 
overlook the pain of our conviction, and bless with 
all sincerity "the hand which rescued us." O 



94: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

hammer which broke our fetters,' how can we think 
ill of thee ! O angel which smote us on the side, 
and let us out of the prison-house, can we do aught 
but love thee ! O Jesus, our glorious deliverer, we 
would love thee, live to thee, and die for thee ! 
seeing thou hast loved us, and hast proved that 
love in thy life and in thy death. Never can we 
think thee unmerciful, for thou wast mercifully 
severe. We are sure not one stroke fell too hea- 
vily, nor was one pang too painful. Faithful thou 
wast in all thy dealings, and our songs shall exalt 
thee in all thy ways, even when thou causest groans 
to proceed from our wounded spirits. And when 
our spirits shall fly toward thy throne of light, 
though in their unceasing hallelujahs thy tender 
mercies and loving kindnesses shall claim the high- 
est notes, yet, midst the rapturous hosannahs, shall 
be heard the psalm " of remembrance " sounding 
forth our praise for the rod of the covenant and the 
hand of affliction. While here on earth we hymn 
thy praise in humbler strains, and thus adore thy 
love — 

"Long unafflicted, undismay'd, 
In pleasure's path secure I stray'd. 
Thou mad'st me feel thy chastening rod, 
And straight I turned unto my God. 

"What though it pierced my fainting heart, 
I bless the hand that caused the smart ; 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 95 

It taught my tears awhile to flow, 
But saved me from eternal woe. 

Oh! hadst thou left me unchastised, 
Thy precepts I had still despised, 
And still the snare, in secret laid, 
Had my unwary feet betrayed 

I love thee, therefore, my God, 
And breathe towards thy dear abode; 
Where, in thy presence fully blest, 
Thy chosen saints for ever rest." 



96 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 



TO THE UKCO^YEETED KEALEE. 



Fuiend, — In this chapter thou hast parted com- 
pany with the Christian. Thou couldst join with 
him while he esteemed not Jesns, but row that 
Christ has begun to wound the conscience of his 
child, thou biddest him adieu, and proudly boas- 
teth that thou art not one of so miserable a charac- 
ter. Notwithstanding this, I am loath to part with 
thee until I have again expostulated with thee. 

Thou thinkest it a blessing to be free from the 
sad feelings we have been describing, but let me 
tell thee it is thy curse — thy greatest, deadliest 
curse that thou art a stranger to such inward 
mourning for thy guilt. In the day when the 
Judge of heaven and earth shall divide tares from 
wheat, thou wilt see how terrible it is to be an un- 
regenerate sinner. When the flames of hell get 
hold upon thee, thou wilt wish in vain for that very 
experience which now thou dost set at nought. It 
will not be all May-day with thee ; thine hour of 
death is as sure as another man's, and then a bet- 



FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 97 

ter than I shall convince thee of thine error. Laugh 
not at weeping souls, account them not to be in a 
pitiable plight ; for sad as their condition appears, 
it is not half so sad as thine, and there is not one 
of all those moaning penitents who would change 
places with thee for an hour. Their grief is greater 
joy than thy bliss ; thy laughter is not so sweet as 
their groans ; and thy pleasant estate is despicable 
compared with their sorest distress. Besides, re- 
member those who are now in such darkness will 
soon see the light, but thou shalt soon walk in 
increasing and unceasing darkness. Their sorrows 
shall be ended ; thine are not yet commenced, and 
when commenced shall never know a conclusion. 
Theirs is hopeful distress ; thine will be hopeless 
agony. Their chastisement comes from a loving 
Jesus ; thine will proceed from an angry God. 
Theirs has for its certain end eternal salvation ; 
thine everlasting damnation. Oh ! bethink thee 
for a moment, wouldst thou rather choose to have 
painless mortification and so perish, than to feel 
soreness in thy wounds and then receive a cure ? 
Wouldst thou rather lie and rot in a dungeon than 
bruise thyself by climbing the wall to escape % 
Surely thou wouldst endure anything rather than 
be damned ; and I bid thee take this for truth, that 
thou shalt either repent or burn ; thou shalt either 
shed tears of penitence here, or else shriek in vain 
for a drop of water in that pit which burnetii with 

5 



98 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

tire unquenchable. What sayest thou to this ? 
Canst thou dwell with devouring flames ? , Canst 
thou abide the eternal burnings ? Ah ! be not 
mad, I entreat thee. Why shouldst thou destroy 
thyself? What good will come of it when thy 
blood shall be laid at thine own door ? Hast thou 
not sinned ? Why then think it foolish to repent? 
Has not God threatened his fierce wrath to him 
that goeth on in his iniquity ? Why then despise 
those whom grace has turned, and who therefore are 
constrained to bid thee turn from the error of thy 
sinful ways ? May the Lord stay thy madness in 
time, and give thee repentance, otherwise "Tophet 
is ordained of old : the pile thereof is fire and much 
wood ; the breath of the Lord, like a stream of 
brimstone, doth kindle it." * 

* 2sa. xxx. 33. 



III. 

JESUS DESIRED. 

" Oh that I knew where I might find him!" — Job xxiii. 3. 



A while the woun dings of Jesus are given in the 
dark, and we do not recognise the hand which 
smiteth us ; but it is not always to be so. Inces- 
sant disappointments put us out of all heart with 
the former refuges of our souls, and renewed dis- 
coveries make us sadly aware of the superlative 
evil dwelling in our flesh ; stripped thus of all 
covering without, and trembling at our own shame- 
ful impotence, we hail with gladness the news of a 
Saviour for sinners. As on the frail raft, the almost 
skeleton mariners, having long ago devoured their 
last morsel, raise themselves with all their remaining 
strength to catch a glimpse of a passing sail, if 
haply it may bring relief, so doth the dying sinner 
receive with eagerness the message of coming 
grace. He might have scorned the terms of mercy 
once, but like a city long besieged, he is now too glad 



100 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

to receive peace at any price. The grace which in 
his high estate he counted as a worthless thing, is 
now the great object of his combined desires. He 
pants to see the Man who is " mighty to save," 
and would count it honor to kiss his feet or unloose 
the latch et of his shoes. No cavilling at sovereignty, 
no murmuring at self-humiliation, no scorning the 
unpurchasable gifts of discriminating love ; the 
man is too poor to be proud, too sick to struggle 
with his physician, too much afraid of death to re- 
fuse the king's pardon because it puts him under 
obligation. Happy is it for us if we understand 
this position of utter helplessness into which we 
must all be brought if we would know Christ ! 

It is one of the strange things in the dealings of 
Jesus, that even when we arrive at this state of en- 
tire spiritual destitution, we do not always become 
at once the objects of his justifying grace. Long 
seasons frequently intervene between our know- 
ledge of our ruin, our hearing of a deliverer, and 
the application of that deliverer's hand. The Lord's 
own called ones frequently turn their eyes to the 
hills, and find no help coming therefrom ; yea, 
they wish to look unto him, but they are so blinded 
that they cannot discern him as their hope and 
consolation. This is not, as some would rashly 
conclude, because he is not the Saviour for such as 
they are. Far otherwise. Unbelief crieth out, 
" Ah ! my vileness disqualifies me for Christ, and 



JESUS DESIRED. 101 

my exceeding sinfulness shuts out his love ?" How 
foully doth unbelief lie when it thus slandereth the 
tender heart of Jesus ! how inhumanly cruel it is 
when it thus takes the cup of salvation from the 
only lips which have a right to drink thereof ! We 
have noticed in the preaching of the present day 
too much of a saint's gospel, and too little of a sin- 
ner's gospel. Honesty, morality, and goodness, 
are commended not so much as the marks of god- 
liness, as the life of it ; and men are told that as 
they sow, so they shall reap, without the absolutely 
necessary caveat that salvation is not of man, nei- 
ther by man, and that grace cometh not to him 
that worketh, but to him that believeth on Him 
that justifieth the ungodly. Not thus spake our 
ancient preachers when in all its fullness they de- 
clared — 

" Not the righteous, not the righteous — 
Sinners, Jesus came to save." 

The words of a much calumniated preacher are 
not less bold than true : 

u There is nothing in men, though never so vile, 
that can debar a person from a part in Christ. 
Some will not have Christ, except they can pay for 
him ; others dare not meddle with Christ, because 
they are such vile and wretched creatures, that 
they think it impossible that Christ should belong 
to such wretched persons as they are. You know 



102 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

not (saith one) what an abominable sinner I am ; 
you look upon others, and their sins are but ordi- 
nary, but mine are of a deep dye, and I shall die 
in them : the rebellion of my heart is another kind 
of rebellion than is in others. Beloved, let me tell 
you freely from the Lord, let men deem you as 
they will, and esteem yourself as bad as you can, 
I tell you from the Lord, and I will make it good, 
there is not that sinfulness that can be imagined in 
a creature that can be able to separate or debar 
any of you from a part in Christ ; even though you 
are thus sinful, Christ may be your Christ. Nay, 
I go further ; suppose one person in this congrega- 
tion should not only be the vilest sinner in the 
world, but should have all the sins of others, be- 
sides what he himself hath committed ; if all these 
were laid upon the back of him, he should be a 
greater sinner than now he is ; yet, if he should 
bear all the sins of others, as I said, there is no bar 
to this person, but Christ may be his portion. ' He 
bore the sins of many' (saith the text), but he bare 
them not as his own, he bare them for many. Sup- 
pose the many, that are sinners, should have all 
their sins translated to one in particular, still there 
is no more sin than Christ died for, though they be 
all collected together. If other men's sins were 
translated upon you, and they had none, then they 
needed no Christ ; all the need they had of Christ 
were translated to you, and then the whole of 



JESUS DESIRED. 103 

Christ's obedience should be yours. Do but ob- 
serve the strain of the Gospel, you shall find that 
no sin in the world can be a bar to hinder a person 
from having a part in Christ ; look upon the con- 
dition of persons (as they are revealed in the Gos- 
pel) to whom Christ is reached out ; and the con- 
sideration of their persons will plainly show to you 
that these is no kind of sinfulness can bar a person 
from having a part in Christ. Consider Christ's 
own expression, • I came to seek and to save that 
which was lost ; I came not to call the righteous, 
but sinners, to repentance ; the whole need not a 
physician, but they that are sick ;' here still the 
persons are considered, in the worst condition (as 
some might think) rather than in the best. Our 
Saviour is pleased to express himself in a direct 
contrary way to the opinion of men. i I came not 
to call the righteous, but sinners ;' the poor pub- 
lican that had nothing to plead for himself went 
away more justified than the proud pharisee, who 
pleaded with God, ' I thank thee that I am not 
such an one.' 

Men think righteousness brings them near to 
Christ ; beloved, our righteousness is that which 
puts a man away from Christ ; stumble not at the 
expression, it is the clear truth of the Gospel ; not 
simply a doing of service and duty doth put away 
from Christ ; but upon the doing of duty and ser- 
vice to expect acceptance with Christ or participa- 



104 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUE. 



tion in Christ — this kind of righteousness is the 
only separation between Christ and a people ; and 
whereas no sinfulness in the world can debar a 
people, their righteousness may debar them." * 

Possibly some may object to such terms as these 
as being too strong and unguarded, but a full con- 
sideration of them will show that they are such as 
would naturally flow from the lips of a Luther 
when inculcating faith alone as the means of our 
salvation, and are fully borne out by the strong 
expressions of Paul when writing to the Romans 
and Galatians. The fact is, that very strong terms 
are necessary to make men see the whole of this 
truth, for it is one which of all things the mind can 
least receive. 

If it were possible to make men clearly under- 
stand that justification is not in the least degree by 
their own works, how easy would it be to comfort 
them ! but herein lies the greatest of all difficulties. 
Man cannot be taught that -his goodness is no in 
crease to God's wealth, and his sin no diminution 
of divine riches ; he will for ever be imagining that 
some little presents must be offered, and that mercy 
never can be the gratuitous bounty of Heaven. 
Even the miserable creature who has learned his 
own bankruptcy and beggary, while assured that 
he cannot bring anything, yet trembles to come 



Crisp. 



JESUS DESIRED. 105 

naked and as he is. He knows he cannot do any- 
thing, but he can scarcely credit the promise which 
seems too good to be true — " I will heal their back- 
sliding, I will love them freely : for mine anger is 
turned away from him." * Yea, when he cannot 
deny the evidence of his own eyes, because the 
kind word stares him in the face, he will turn away 
from its glories under the sad supposition that they 
are intended for all men save himself. The air, 
the stream, the fruit, the joys and luxuries of life, 
he takes freely, nor ever asks whether these were 
not intended for a special people ; but at the upper 
springs he stands fearing to dip his pitcher, lest the 
flowing flood should refuse to enter it because the 
vessel was too earthy to be fit to contain such 
pure and precious water : conscious that in Christ 
is all his help, it yet appears too great a presump- 
tion even to touch the hem of the Saviour's gar- 
ment. Nor is it easy to persuade the mourning 
penitent that sin is no barrier to grace, but that 
" where sin aboundeth, grace did much more 
abound ;" and only the spirit of God can make the 
man who knows himself as nothing at all, receive 
Jesus as his all in all. "When the Lord has set his 
heart on a man, it is not a great difficulty that will 
move him from his purpose of salvation, and there- 
fore " he devises means that His banished be not 
expelled from him." f By the divine instruction 

* Hos. xiv. 4. f 2 Sam. xiv. 14. 

5* 



106 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

of the Holy Ghost, the sinner is' taught that Jesus 
is the sinner's friend, adapted to his case, and 
" able to save unto the uttermost." Even then, too 
often, the work is not complete ; for the soul now 
labours to find him whom it needs, and it often 
happens that the search is prolonged through 
months of weariness and days of languishing. If 
the Church, in the canticles, confesses, " By night 
on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth : I 
sought him, but I found him not. I will rise now, 
and go about the city in the streets, and in the 
broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth ; 
I sought him, but I found him not," surely, even 
if our reader's history does not confirm the fact 
that grace is sometimes hidden, he will at least 
assent to the probability of it, and pray for the 
many who are crying, " Oh that I knew where I 
might find him !" 

May Jesus smile on our humble endeavour to 
trace the steps of our own soul, so that any who 
are in this miserable condition may escape by the 
same means ! O ye prisoners of hope, who are 
seeking a Redeemer who apparently eludes your 
grasp, let your earnest prayer accompany your 
reading, while you fervently cry — 

"Saviour, cast a pitying eye, 
Bid my sins and sorrows end : 
Whither should a sinner fly ? 
Art not thou the sinner's friend? 



JESUS DESIRED. 107 

Rest in thee I gasp to find, 
Wretched I, and poor, and blind. 

'* Didst thou ever see a soul 
More in need of help than mine ? 
Then refuse to make me whole ; 
Then withhold the balm divine ; 
But if I do want thee most, 
Come, and seek, and save the lost. 

''Haste, oh haste to my relief; 
From the iron furnace take : 
Rid me of my sin and grief, 
For thy love and mercy's sake ; 
Set my heart at liberty, 
Show forth all thy power in me. 

" Me, the vilest of the race, 
Most unholy, most unclean ; 
Me, the farthest from thy face, 
Full of misery and sin ; 
Me with arms of love receive ; 
Me, of sinners chief— -forgive /" * 

"We propose — 

I. To mark the hopeful signs connected with this 
state of heart ; 

II. To give certain excellent reasons why the soul 
is permitted to tarry in it ; and 

III. To hold forth sundry plain directions for 
behaviour in it, and escape from it. 

I. It is our pleasant duty to note the hopeful 
signs which gladden us when reviewing this state. 

* C. Wesley. 



108 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUU. 

1. We are cheered by observing that the longing 
of the spirit is now entirely after Jesus — " Oh that 
I knew where I might find Him /" Once, like the 
many whom David mentions, the inquiry was, 
" Who will show us any good ?" A question indis- 
criminately addressed to any and all within hear- 
ing, demanding with eagerness any good in all the 
world. But now the desires have found a chan- 
nel, they are no longer like the wide-spread sheet 
of water covering with shallow depth a tract of 
marsh teeming with malaria and pestilence, but 
having found a channel, they rush forward in one 
deep and rapid stream, seeking the broad ocean, 
where sister streams have long since mingled their 
floods. 

Of most men the complaint is true, that they 
will "bore and thread the spheres" with the 
" quick, piercing eye " of the astronomer, or " cut 
through the working wave " to win the pearl, or 
wear themselves away in smoky toil, while as 
" subtle chymics " they divest and strip the crea- 
ture naked, till they find the callow principles 
within their nests ; in fine, will do anything and 
everything of inferior importance, but here are so 
negligent that it is truly asked, 

" What hath not man sought out and found, 
But his dear God ?" * 

When the heart can express itself in the words 

* Herbert. 



JESUS DESIRED. 109 

of our text, it is far otherwise, for to it every other 
subject is trivial, and every other object vain. 
Then, too, there was the continual prayer after 
pardon, conversion, washing, instruction, justifica- 
tion, adoption, and all other spiritual blessings ; but 
now the soul discerns all mercies bound up in one 
bundle in Jesus, and it inquires no more for cassia, 
aloes, and camphire, but asks for Him who hath 
the savour of all good ointments. It is no small 
mark of grace when we can esteem Jesus to be all 
we want. He who believeth there is gold in the 
mine, and desires to obtain it, will not be long be- 
fore he hath it ; and he who knoweth Jesus to be 
full of hid treasures of mercy, and seeketh him 
diligently, shall not be too long detained from a 
possession of him. "We have never known a sinner 
anxious for Jesus — for Jesus only — who did not 
in. due time discover Jesus as his friend, u waiting 
to be gracious." 

Our own experience recalls us to the period when 
we panted for the Lord, even for Him, our only 
want. Yain to us were the mere ordinances — vain 
as bottles scorched by the simoom, and drained of 
their waters. Yain were ceremonies — vain as 
empty wells to the thirsty Arab. Yain were the 
delights of the flesh — bitter as the waters of Marah, 
which even the parched lips of Israel refused to 
drink. Yain were the directions of the legal 
preacher — useless as the howling of the wind to 



110 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

the benighted wanderer. Vain, worse than vain, 
were our refuges of lies, which fell about our ears 
like Dagon's temple on the heads of the worship- 
pers. One only hope we had, one sole refuge for 
our misery. Save where that ark floated, north, 
south, east, and west, were one broad expanse of 
troubled waters ; save where that star burned, the 
sky was one vast field of unmitigated darkness. 
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus ! he alone, he without another, 
had become the solitary hiding-place against the 
storm. As the wounded, lying on the battle-field, 
with wounds which, like fires, consume his mois- 
ture, utters only one monotonous cry of thrilling 
importunity, " "Water, water, water !" so did we 
perpetually send our prayer to heaven, " Jesus, 
thou Son of David, have mercy on me ! O Jesus, 
come to me I" 

" Gracious Lord ! incline thine ear, 
My requests vouchsafe to hear ; 
Hear my never-ceasing cry — 
Give me Christ, or else I die. 

u Wealth and honour I disdain, 
Earthly comforts, Lord, are vain ; 
These can never satisfy, 
Give me Christ, or else I die. 

" Lord, deny me what thou wilt, 
Only ease me of my guilt ; 
Suppliant at thy feet I lie, 
Give me Christ, or else I die. 



JESUS DESIRED. Ill 

" All unholy and unclean, 
I am nothing else but sin ; 
On thy mercy I rely, 
Give me Christ, or else I die. 

" Thou dost freely save the lost, 
In thy grace alone I trust ; 
With my earnest suit comply, 
Give me Christ, or else I die. 

" Thou dost promise to forgive 
All who in thy Son believe ; 
Lord, I know thou canst not lie, 
Give me Christ, or else I die. 

" Father, does thy justice frown ? 
Let me shelter in thy Son ! 
Jesus, to thy arms I fly, 
Come and save me, or I die." 

As he that tantaliseth thirst with painted rivers, 
as he that embittereth hunger's pangs by the offer- 
ing of pictured fruits, so were they who spoke of 
ought else save Christ and him crucified. Our 
heart ached with a void the whole earth could not 
fill ; it heaved with a desire as irresistible as the 
mountain torrent, and as little able to be restrained 
as the volcano when swelling with its fiery lava. 
Every power, every passion, every wish, moved 
onward in one direction. Like to an army press- 
ing upwards through a breach, did our united 
powers rush forward to enter the city of salvation 
by one door — that door Jesus the Lord. Our soul 



112 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

could spare no portion of itself f^r others ; it 
pressed the whole of its strength into the service 
to win Christ, and to be found in him. And oh ! 
how glorious did Jesus then seem ! what would we 
not have given to have had the scantiest morsel 
of his grace ? " A kingdom for a horse !" cried 
the routed monarch. " A kingdom for a look — a 
world for a smile — our whole selves for one kind 
word!" was then our far wiser prayer. Oh what 
crushing we would have endured, if in the crowd 
we could have approached his person? what tramp- 
ing would we have borne, if our finger might have 
touched the lowest hem of his garments ! Bear us 
witness, ye hours of ardent desire, what horrors 
we would have braved, what dangers we would 
have encountered, what tortures we would have 
suffered, for one brief glimpse of Him, whom our 
souls desired to know! We could have trodden 
the burning marl of hell at his bidding, if his face 
had but been in prospect; and as for Peter's march 
upon the deep, we would have waded to our very 
necks without a fear, if it were but with half a 
hope of a welcome from the Lord on the other side. 
He had no roboers then to share his throne, no 
golden calf to provoke him to jealousy. He was 
the monarch reigning without a rival. No part of 
our heart was then shut up from him; he was 
welcomed in every chamber of our being. There 
was not a tablet of the heart which was not en- 



JESUS DESIRED. 113 

graven with Ms name, nor a string of our harp 
which did not vibrate with his praise, nor an atom 
of our frame which would not have leaped for very 
joy at the distant sound of his footsteps. Such a 
condition of longing alone for Jesus is so healthy, 
that many advanced believers would be well-nigh 
content to retrace their steps, if they might once 
more be fully occupied with that desire to the 
exclusion of every other. 

If my reader be fully resolved to satisfy his hun- 
ger only with the manna which cometh down from 
heaven — if he be determined to slake his thirst at 
no stream save that which gusheth from the Hock 
— if he will accept no cordial of comfort save that 
which is compounded of the herbs of Gethsemane 
— it is, it must be, well with him. If none but 
Jesus is thy delight, take heart. Augustine cast 
away Tully's works because there was no Christ in 
them ; if thou, like him, dost renounce all but 
Christ, Christ will never renounce thee. 

2. Another pleasing feature of this case is, the 
intense sincerity and ardent earnestness of the soid. 
Here is an " Oh !" — a deep, impassioned, burning 
ejaculation of desire. It is no fanciful wish, which 
a little difficulty will presently overcome — it is no 
effervescence of excitement, which time will re- 
move ; but it is a real want, fixed in the core of 
the heart so firmly, that nothing but a supply of 
the need can silence the importunate petition It 



114 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

is not the passing sigh, which the half-awakened 
heave as a compliment to an eloquent discourse or 
a stirring tract, — it is not the transient wish of the 
awe-struck spectator who has seen a sudden death 
or a notable judgment, — it is not even the longing 
of a soul in love for a time with the moral excel- 
lences of Christ ; but it is the prayer of one who 
needs must pray, who cannot, who dare not, rest 
satisfied until he find Jesus — who can no more 
restrain his groaning than the light clouds can 
refuse to fly before the violence of the wind. We 
have, we hope, many a time enjoyed nearness to 
the throne of grace in prayer ; but perhaps never 
did such a prayer escape our lips as that which we 
offered in the bitterness of our spirit when seeking 
the Saviour. "We have often poured out our hearts 
with greater freedom, with more delight, with 
stronger faith, with more eloquent language ; but 
never, never have we cried with more vehemence 
of unquenchable desire, or more burning heat of 
insatiable longing. There was then no sleepiness 
or sluggishness in our devotion ; we did not then 
need the whip of command to drive us to labours 
of prayer ; but our soul could not be content, 
unless with sighs and lamentations — with strong 
crying and tears it gave vent to our bursting 
hearts. Then we had no need to be dragged to 
our closets like oxen to the slaughter, but we flew 
to them like doves to their windows * and when 



JESUS DESIRED. 115 

there we needed no pumping tip of desires, but 
they gushed forth like a fountain of waters, although 
at time3 we felt we could scarcely find them a 
channel. 

Mr. Philpot justly observes, " "When the Lord is 
graciously pleased to enable the soul to pour ou 
its desires, and to offer up its fervent breathings at 
his feet, and to give them out as He gives them in, 
then to call upon the Lord is no point of duty, 
which is to be attended to as a duty ; it is no point 
of legal constraint, which must be done because 
the Word of God speaks of it ; but it is a feeling, 
an experience, an inward work, which springs from 
the Lord's hand, and which flows in the Lord's 
own divine channel. Thus when the Lord is 
pleased to pour out this ' Spirit of grace and of 
supplication,' we must pray ; but we do not pray 
because we must ; we pray because we have no 
better occupation, we have no more earnest desire, 
we have no more powerful feeling, and we have no 
more invincible and irresistible constraint. The 
living child of God groans and sighs, because it is 
the expression of his wants — because it is a lan- 
guage which pours forth the feelings of his heart 
— because groans and sighs are pressed out of him 
by the heavy weight upon him. A man lying in 
the street with a heavy weight upon him will call 
for help ; he does not say, ' It is my duty to cry to 
the passers by for help ;' he cries for help because 



116 THE SAINT AND HIS SAV10UK. 

lie wants to be delivered. A man with a broken 
leg does not say, ' It is my duty to send for a sur- 
geon ;' lie wants him to set the limb. And a man 
in a raging disease does not say, ' It is my duty to 
send for a physician ;' he wants liini to heal his 
disease. So when God the Holy Spirit works in a 
child of God, he prays, not out of a sense of duty, 
but from a burdened heart ; he prays, because he 
cannot but pray ; he groans, because he cannot 
but groan ; he sighs, because he must sigh, having 
an inward weight, an inward burden, an inward 
experience, in which, and out of which, he is com- 
pelled to call upon the Lord."* 

The supplication of the penitent is no mechan- 
ical form of devotion, followed for the sake, of 
merit ; it is the natural consequence of the wound- 
ing of Jesus ; and its offerer knows no more of 
merit in presenting it than in breathing, or any 
other act which necessity prevents him from sus- 
pending. This " Oh!" is one which will not rise 
once and then sink for ever ; it is not the explosion 
of a starry rocket, succeeded by darkness; but 
it will be an incessant ejaculation of the inner man. 
As at some of our doors every hour brings a post, 
so at the door of mercy every hour will hear a 
prayer from such an one ; in fact, the soul will be 
full of prayer even when it is not in the exercise 

* Sermon on Prayer and its Answer, 



JESUS DESIRED. 117 

itself — even as a censer may be filled with, incense 
when no fire is burning in it. Prayer will become 
a state of the soul, perpetual and habitual, needing 
nothing but opportunity to develop itself in the 
outward act of petitioning at the feet of mercy. It 
is well when Mr. Desires-awake is sent to court, 
for he will surely prevail. Yiolence taketh the 
kingdom by force ; hard knocks open mercy's 
door ; swift running overtakes the promise ; hard 
wrestling wins the blessing. 

When the child crieth well, his lungs are sound ; 
and when the seeker can with impetuous earnest- 
ness implore pardon, he is most surely not far from 
health. "When the soil of our garden begins to 
rise, we know that the bulb will soon send forth 
its shoot ; so when the heart breaketh for the longing 
which it hath unto God's testimonies, we perceive 
that Jesus will soon appear to gladden the spirit. 

3. We are rejoiced to observe the sense of igno- 
rance which the seeker here expresses — " Oh that 1 
knew where I might find him !" Men are by nature 
Yery wise in matters of religion, and in their own 
opinion they might easily set up for Doctors of 
Divinity without the slightest spiritual enlighten- 
ment. It is a remarkable fact that men who find 
every science in the world to be too much, for 
them, even when they have but waded ankle-deep 
into the elements thereof, can yet affect to be mas- 
ters of theology, and competent, yea, infallible 



118 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

judges in matters of religion.' Nothing is more 
easy than to pretend to a profound acquaintance 
with the religion of the cross, and even to maintain 
a reputation as a well-taught and highly instructed 
disciple of the Lamb ; and, at the same time, no- 
thing is more rare than really to be taught of God, 
and illuminated by the Spirit; and yet without 
this the religion of Jesus never can be really under- 
stood. Natural men will array themselves in 
robes of learning, ascend the chair of profession, 
and thence teach to others doctrines with which 
they fancy themselves to be thoroughly conversant ; 
and if a word were hinted of their deficiency in 
knowledge, and their inherent inability to discern 
spiritual things, how wrathful would they become, 
how fiercely would they denounce the bigotry of 
such an assertion, and how furiously would they 
condemn the cant and fanaticism which they con- 
ceive to be the origin of so humiliating a doctrine ! 
To be as little children and bend their necks to 
the yoke of Jesus, the Master, is quite out of the 
question with the men of this generation, who love 
to philosophise the Word, and give what they call 
" intellectual " views of the Gospel. How little 
do they suspect that, professing themselves to be 
wise, they have become fools ! How little do they 
imagine that their grand theories and learned essays 
are but methods of the madness of folly, and, like 
paintings on the windows of their understanding, 



JESUS DESIRED. 11£ 

assist to shut out the light of the Holy Spirit. 
Self-conceit in men who are destitute of heavenly 
light, unconsciously to them doth exercise itself 
on that subject upon which their ignorance is of 
necessity the greatest. They will acknowledge 
that when they have studied astronomy, its subli- 
mities are beyond them; they will not arrogate 
to themselves a lordship of the entire regions of any 
one kingdom of knowledge ; but here, in theology, 
they feel themselves abundantly qualified, if they 
have some readiness in the original languages, and 
have visited the schools of the universities ; where- 
as a man might with as much justice style himself 
professor of botany, because he knows the scientific 
names of the classes and orders, although he has 
never seen one of the flowers thus named and ar- 
ranged — for what can education teach of theology 
but names and theories? Experience alone can 
bring the things themselves before our eyes, and 
in the light of Jesus can we alone discern them 
We are pleased, therefore, to discover in the utter- 
ance of the awakened soul a confession of igno- 
rance. The man inquires " Where he can find the 
Lord ?" He is self-confident no longer, but is wil- 
ling to ask his way to heaven ; he is prepared to 
go to the very dame-school of piety, and learn the 
alphabet of godliness. He may be distinguished 
for his learning, but now a little child may lead? 
him ; his titles, his gown, his diploma, his dignity, 



120 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

all these are laid aside, and down lie sits at the feet 
of Jesus to begin again, or rather to commence 
learning what he never knew before. 

Conviction of ignorance is the doorstep of the 
temple of wisdom. " It is said in the Creed that 
Christ descended into hell : descendit ut ascendat 
— He took his rising from the lowest place to ascend 
into the highest ; and herein Christ readeth a good 
lecture unto us — he teacheth us that humility is the 
way to glory." * Seneca remarked, I suppose that 
many might have attained to wisdom, had they not 
thought that had they already attained it.f We 
must first be emptied of every particle of fleshly wis- 
dom, ere we can say that " Christ is made unto us 
wisdom." We must know our folly, and confess it, 
before we can be accepted as the disciples of Jesus. 
It is marvellous how soon he doth unfrock us of our 
grand apparel, and how easily our wisdom disap- 
pears like a bubble vanishing in air. We were 
never greater fools than when our wisdom was the 
greatest in our own esteem ; but as soon as real 
wisdom came, straightway our opinion of ourselves 
fell from the clouds to the bottom of the moun- 
tain's. We were no divines or doctors when we 
were under the convincing hand of the Spirit ; we 
were far more like babes for ignorance, and we felt 
ourselves to be very beasts for folly 4 Like men 

* Ephr. Udall's Sermons, f Seneca de Ira, lib, iii. c. 36. 
% Ps. lxxiii. 22. 



JESUS DESIRED. 121 

lost in a dark wood, we could not find our paths ; 
the roads which were once apparent enough, were 
then hedged up with thorns ; and the very entrance 
to the narrow way had to be pointed out by Evan- 
gelist,* and marked by a light. Nevertheless, 
blessed is he who desireth to learn the fear of the 
Lord, for he shall find it the beginning of wisdom. 
Nor, in the present case, hath a sense of ignor- 
ance driven the man to pry into secrets too deep 
for human wisdom. He cloth not exclaim, " Oh 
that I knew where sin took its origin, or how pre- 
destination meeteth the agency of man !" No ; he 
seeks only this, " Oh that I knew where I might 
find Him /" Many are puzzling themselves about 
abstract questions while their eternal interests are 
in imminent peril ; such men are like the man who 
counted the stars, but taking no heed to his feet, 
fell into a pit and perished. " We may sooner 
think to span the sun, or grasp a star, or see a gnat 
swallow a leviathan, than fully understand the de- 
bates of eternity Too great an inquisitiveness 

beyond our line is as much a provoking arrogance 
as a blockish negligence of what is revealed, is a 
slighting ingratitude." f The quickened spirit dis- 
dains to pluck the wild flowers of carnal know- 
ledge ; he is not ambitious to reach the tempting 
beauties blooming on the edge of the cliffs which 

* Bunyan's Pilgrim. \ Charnock's Divine Attributes, 





122 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

skirt the sea of the unrevealecl ;' but he anxiously 
looks around for the rose of Sharon, the lily of the 
valley. He who thus studieth only to know Christ, 
shall soon, by the assistance of the Holy Spirit, 
learn enough to spell out his own salvation. 

4. An evidence of grace is presented to ns by 
the absence of all choice as to where the Saviour is 
discovered. " Oh that I knew where I might find 
him !" Here is no stipulation ; Jesus is wanted, 
and let him be wherever he may, the soul is pre- 
pared to go after him. "We, when in this state of 
experience, knew little of sect or denomination. 
Before our conviction we could fight for names, 
like mercenaries for other men's countries. The 
mottoes of our party were higher in our esteem 
than the golden rules of Christianity ; and we 
should have been by no means grieved at the con- 
flagration of every other section of professors, if our 
own might have been elevated on the ruins. 
Every rubric and form, every custom and antiquity, 
we would have stained with our blood, if neces- 
sary, in order to preserve them ; and mightily did 
we shout concerning our own Church, " Great is 
Diana of the Ephesians." Not a nail in the 
church-door but we reverenced it — not a vestment 
which we did not admire ; or, if we loved not 
pomp, simplicities were magnified into our very 
household gods. "We hated popery, but were essen- 
tially papistical ; for we could have joined His 



JESUS DESIRED. 123 

Unlioliness in all his anathemas, if lie would but 
have hurled them against those who differed from 
us. We too did, in our own fashion, curse by bell, 
book, and candle, all who were not of our faith and 
order ; and could scarcely think it possible that 
many attained salvation beyond the pale of our 
Church, or that Jesus deigned to give them so 
much as a transient visit. 

How changed we were when, by Divine grace, the 
sectarianism of our ungodliness did hide its head 
for shame ! We then thought that we would go 
among Methodists, Baptists, Episcopalians, Inde- 
pendents, Presbyterians, or anywhere, so that we 
could but find a Redeemer for our guilty souls. It 
is more than probable that we found it necessary 
to shift our quarters, and attend the very house 
which we lately detested, to bow with the people 
whom once we held in abhorrence. All the fan- 
cies of our former lives dissolved before the heat 
of our desire. The huntsman loveth the mountain 
which shadeth his valley more than all its giant 
brothers ; but nevertheless, when in hot pursuit of 
the chamois, he leapeth from crag to crag, and 
asks not what is the name of the rock upon which 
the object of his chase hath bounded ; so the sin- 
ner, ardently following after the Saviour, will pur- 
sue him whithersoever he goeth. 

Nor at such seasons did we regard the respecta- 
bility of the denomination or the grandeur of tha 



124 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

structure in which God was adored. The chapel 
in the dark alley, the despised and deserted church, 
the disreputable school-room, were now no longer 
noticed with a sneer ; but whether under the 
vaulted sky of heaven, the cobwebbed thatch of a 
barn, the dingy ceiling of a village station, or the 
magnificent roof of the temple of the great assem- 
bly, we only sought one thing, and that one thing 
found, all places were on a level. No praising a 
church for its architectural beautv — no despising a 
meeting-house for its aboriginal ugliness ; both 
buildings were valued not by their figure, but by 
their contents ; and where Jesus was more easily 
to be found, there did we make our haunt. It is 
true our servants, our ploughmen, and our paupers, 
sat with us to hear the same word ; but we did not 
observe the difference, though once, perhaps, we 
might have looked aghast if any but my lady in 
satin, or my lord in superfine broadcloth, had ven- 
tured into a pew within the range of our breath. 
To us the company mattered not, so long as the 
Master of the Feast would but reveal himself. The 
place might be unconsecrated, the minister unor- 
dained, the clerk uneducated, the sect despicable, 
and the service unpretending, but if Jesus did but 
show his face there it was all we wished for. 
There is no authentic account of the dimensions, 
the fashion, or furniture, of the room in which 
Jesus suddenly appeared and pronounced his 



JESUS DESIRED. 125 

" peace "be unto you." Nov do we think that any 
one of the assembly even so much as thought 
thereof while their Lord was present. It is well 
when we are content to go whithersoever the 
Lamb doth lead. Doubtless the catacombs of 
Home, the glens of Scotland, and the conventicles 
of England, have been more frequented by the 
King of kings than cathedrals or chapels-royal : 
therefore do the godly count it little where they 
worship, looking only for His presence which 
maketh a hovel glorious, and deprecating his ab- 
sence, which makes even a temple desolate. We 
would in our anxious mood have followed Jesus in 
the cave, the mountain, the ravine, or the cata 
comb, so that we might but have been within the 
circle of his influence. 

Nor would we have blushed to have sought Je- 
sus among his kinsfolk and acquaintance — the sick, 
the poor, the uneducated, but yet sincere children 
of light. How did we then delight to sit in that 
upper room where stars looked between the tiles, 
and hear the heavenly conversation which, from a 
miserable pallet surrounded by ragged hangings, 
an enfeebled saint of the Lord did hold with us ! 
Like divers, we valued the pearl, even though the 
shell might be a broken one, nor did we care where 
we went to win it. When those creaking stairs 
trembled beneath our weight, when that bottomless 
chair afforded us an uneasy rest, and when the heat 



126 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

and effluvia of that sick-room drove our companion 
a way, did we not feel more than doubly repaid 
while that friend of Jesus told us of all his love, his 
faithfulness and grace? It is frequently the case 
that the most despised servants of the Lord are 
made the chosen instruments of comforting dis- 
tressed souls, and building them up in the faith. 
The writer confesses his eternal obligations to an 
old cook, who was despised as an Antinomian, but 
who in her kitchen taught him many of the deep 
things of God, and removed many a doubt from his 
} T outhful mind. Even eminent men have been in- 
debted to humble individuals for their deliverance: 
take, for instance, Paul, and his comforter, Ana- 
nias ; and in our own day, Bunyan, instructed by 
the holy women at Bedford. True seekers will hunt 
everywhere for Jesus, and will not be too proud to 
learn from beggars or little children. We take 
gold from dark mines or muddy streams ; it were 
foolish to refuse instruction in salvation from the 
most unlettered or uncouth. Let us be really in 
earnest after Christ, then circumstance and place 
will be lightly esteemed. 

We remark also that there is no condition for 
distance in this question, it is only " where;" and 
though it be a thousand miles away, the man has 
his feet in readiness for the journey. Desire o'er- 
leapeth space ; leagues to it are inches, and oceans 
narrow into straits. Where, at one time, a mile 



JESUS DESIRED. 127 

would tire the body, a long journey after the Word 
is counted as nothing: yea, to stand in the house 
of God for hours during service is reckoned a plea- 
sure and not a hardship. The Hindoo devotee, to 
find a hopeless salvation, will roll himself along for 
hundreds of miles : it seems but natural that we, 
when searching for eternal life, should count all 
things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge 
of Christ Jesus our Lord. Mary Magdalene only 
needed to know where they had laid her Lord, and 
her resolve was, " I will take him away;" for surely, 
she thought, her bodily strength could never fail 
under such a burden, and she measured the power 
of her body by the might of her love. So do desti- 
tute sinners, who need a Saviour, altogether laugh 
at hazards or hardships which may intervene. 
Come mountain or valley, rapid or rock, whirlpool 
or tempest, desire hath girded the traveller with an 
omnipotence of heart, and a world of dangers is 
trodden beneath the feet, with the shout of De- 
borah — " O my soul, thou hast trodden down 
strength." 

"1 doubt not," said Rutherford to Lady Ken- 
mure, "that if hell were betwixt you and Christ, 
as a river which ye behoved to cross ere ye could 
come at him, but ye would willingly put in your 
foot, and make through to be at him, upon hope 
that he would come in himself into the deepest 
of the river, and lend you his hand." Doubtless 



128 THE SAINT AND HIS SA.VIOUR. 

it is so with thee, reader, if thou art as we have 
described. 

We think also we may be allowed to add, that 
the earnest inquirer does not object to any position 
of humiliation which may be required of him' ere 
he can " see Jesus." It is only demanded " where V 
and though the reply may be, "There, in yonder 
cell of penitence, on your bended knees, stripped 
of all your glories, shall you alone behold him," no 
delay will reveal the lurking pride ; but an instan- 
taneous and joyful obedience will manifest that the 
one absorbing passion has entirely swallowed up all 
ideas of dignity, honour, and pride. 

Like Benhadacl, when in danger, hearing that the 
king of Israel is a merciful king, we will consent to 
put sackcloth on our loins, and ropes upon our 
necks, and go in unto him, hoping for some words 
of favour. We make a surrender at discretion, 
without reserve of the arms of our sins or the bag- 
gage of our pleasures. He that is down so low as 
to be wholly submissive, will find that even justice 
will not smite him. Mercy always fiieth near the 
ground. The flower of grace groweth in the dells 
of humility. The stars of love shine in the night 
of our self-despair. If truth lie not in a well, cer- 
tainly mercy doth. The hand of justice spares the 
sinner who has thrown away both the sword of re- 
bellion and the plumes of his pride. If we will do 
and be anything or everything, so that we may but 



JESUS DESIRED. 129 

win Christ, we shall soon find him to be everything 
to us. There is no more hopeful sign of coming 
grace than an emptiness of our own selfish terms 
and conditions, for he resisteth the proud, but giv- 
eth grace unto the lowly. 

Thus have we tried to sum up all the promises 
which this state affords, but cheering though they 
be, we fear few will accept the comfort they afford ; 
for, " as he that poureth vinegar upon nitre, so is 
he that singeth songs to a sad heart ; and it is gen- 
erally in vain to condole a patient under an opera- 
tion by any reflections on the benefit thereof, see- 
ing that while the pain lasteth he will still cry out 
and groan. Nevertheless, we who have escaped 
cannot refrain from singing without the w T alls of 
the dungeon, in the hope that some within may 
hear and take heart. Let us say to every mourner 
in Zion, Be of good cheer ; for " He who walked in 
the garden, and made a noise that made Adam 
hear his voice, will also at some time walk in your 
soul, and make you hear a more sweet word, yet 
ye will not always hear the noise and din of his 
feet when He walketh."* Ephraim is bemoaning 
and mourning f " when he thinketh God is far off, 
and heareth not ; and yet God is like the bride- 
groom, standing only behind a thin wall,;): and lay- 

* Rutherford. f Jer. xxxi. 18. 

% Cant. ii. 9. 



130 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

ing to his ear, for lie saitli himself, I have su. ely 
heard Ephraim bemoaning himself." " I will surely 
have mercy upon him, saith the Lord." 

Be thou of good cheer, O seeker; go on, for hope 
prophesies success, and the signs of thy case prog- 
nosticate a happy deliverance. None who are like 
thee have failed at last : persevere and be saved. 

II. "We are now arrived at our second division, 
wherein w T e proposed to consider the reasons of this 
tarrying. May our Divine Illuminator enlighten 
us while we write ! 

"We believe that many are delayed because they 
seek not rightly or because they seek not ea- 
gerly, with these we have just now nothing 
to do ; we are dealing with the genuine con- 
vert, the sincere searcher, who yet cannot find 
his Lord. To the exercised mind no question is 
more hard to answer than this, " Why doth he not 
hear?" but when delivered from our distress, 
nothing is more full of joy than the rich discovery 
that " he hath done all things well." 

If our reader be now in sorrow, let him believe 
what he cannot see, and receive the testimony of 
others who now bear witness that " God's way is in 
the sea, and his patli in the deep waters." 

1. We now perceive that it afforded pleasure to 
Jesus to view the labours of our faith in pursuit after 
him. Jesus doth often hide his face from his chil- 



JESUS DESIKED. 131 

dren, that he may hear the sweet music of their 
cry. When the woman of Canaan came before our 
Lord, he answered her not a word ; and when her 
importunity did somewhat prevail, a harsh sentence 
was all she obtained. Yet the blessed Jesus was 
not angry with her, but was pleased to behold her 
faith struggling amid the waves of his seeming neg- 
lect, and finding anchorage even on that hard word 
which appeared like a rock ready to wreck her 
hopes. He was so charmed with her holy daring 
and heavenly resolution, that he detained her for a 
time to feast his eyes upon the lovely spectacle. 
The woman had faith, in Christ, and Jesus would let 
all men see what faith can do in honour of its Lord. 
Great kings have among their attendants certain 
well- trained artistes who play before them, while 
they, sitting with their court, behold their feats 
with pleasure. Now, Faith is the king's cham- 
pion, whom he delights to put upon labours of the 
most herculean kind. Faith hath, when bidden by 
its Master, stopped the sun and chained the moon ; 
it hath dried the sea and divided rivers ; it hath 
dashed bulwarks to the ground ; quenched the vio- 
lence of fire ; stopped the mouths of lions ; turned 
to flight the armies of the aliens, and robbed death 
of its prey. Importunity is the king's running 
footman ; he hath been known to run whole months 
together without losing his breath, and over moun- 
tains he leaps with the speed of Asahel ; therefore 



132 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

doth the Lord at times try his endurance, for he loveth 
to see what his own children can perform. Prayer, 
also, is one of the royal musicians ; and although 
many do prefer his brother, who is called Praise, 
yet this one hath ever had an equal share of the 
king's favour. His lute playeth so sweetly that the 
heavens have smiled with sunshine for the space of 
three years and six months * at the sound thereof ; 
and when again the melodious notes were heard, 
the same skies did weep for joy, and rain descended 
on the earth. Prayer hath made God's axe of ven- 
geance stay in mid air, although it was hastening to 
fell the cumber-ground ; and his sword hath been 
lulled to sleep in its scabbard by the soft sonnets of 
prayer, when it sung of pardons bought with blood. 
Therefore, because Jesus delighteth in these cour- 
tiers whom he hath chosen, he doth ever find them 
work to do, whereby they may minister unto his 
good pleasure. Surely thou who walkest in dark- 
ness, and seest no light, thou mayst be well content 
to grope thy way for a while, if it be true that this 
midnight journey is but one of the feats of faith 
which God is pleased that thou shouldst perform. 
Go on then in confidence. 

2. We may sometimes regard this delay as an 
exhibition of Divine sovereignty. God is not bound 
to persons nor to time ; as he giveth to whom he 

* James v. 17, 18. 



JESUS DESIRED. 133 

pleaseth, so doth lie bestow liis favours in his own 
time and manner. Very frequently the prayer 
and the answer attend each other, as the echo doth 
the speaker's voice. Usually it is, "Before they 
call I will answer, and while they are yet speaking 
I will hear." But Divine prerogative must be 
manifested and maintained, and therefore he doth 
sometimes give temporary denials or protracted 
delays. Through some of our squares the right of 
way is private, and in order to maintain the right, 
although the road is usually open, yet there 
are gates which at times are closed for a season, 
lest any should imagine that they could demand 
a passage ; so, although mercy be free and speedy, 
yet it is not always immediate, that men may 
know that the giver has a right to refuse. Jesus 
is no paid physician, who is bound to give us his 
calls ; therefore he will sometimes step in late in 
the day, that we may remember he is not our 
debtor. Oh ! our hearts loathe the pride which 
bows not to Divine sovereignty, but arrogantly 
declares God to be under obligations to his crea- 
tures. Those who are full of this satanic spirit will 
not assert this in plain language, but while they 
cavil at election, talking with impious breath about 
" partiality," " injustice," " respect of persons," 
and such like things, they too plainly show that 
their old nature is yet unhumbled by Divine grace. 
We are sure of this, that no convinced sinner, 



134: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

when under a sense of his ill-desert, will ever dis- 
pute the justice of God in damning him, or quarrel 
with the distinguishing grace which Heaven giveth 
to one and not to another. If such a person has 
not yet been able to subscribe to the doctrine of 
sovereign, discriminating, electing grace, we won- 
der not that he hath found no peace ; for verily 
Jesus will have him know that his bounties are in 
his own hand, and that none can lay any claim to 
them. Herbert, in his Country Parson, says, 
" He gives no set pension unto any, for then, in 
time, it will lose the name of charity with the 
poor, and they will reckon upon it, as on a debt ;" 
truly it would be even so with the loving kindnesses 
of the Lord, if they were always bestowed where 
man at first desires them. There is nothing over 
which the Lord, is more jealous than his crown — 
his sovereignty — his right to do as he will with his 
own. How grateful should we be that he uses 
such lenient and gentle means to preserve his dig- 
nity ; and that while he might, if he pleased, block 
up the gates of salvation for ever, he doth only for 
a moment cause them to be closed, that we may 
sing the more loudly when we obtain an entrance 
through them. 

3. A ministry devoid of gospel grace is a fre- 
quent cause of long delay in finding the Saviour. 
Some of us in the days of our sorrow for sin were 
compelled by circumstances to sit under a legal 






JESUS DESIRED. 135 

preacher who did but increase our pain, and aggra- 
vate our woe. Destitute of all savour and unction, 
but most of all wanting in a clear view of Jesus 
the Mediator, the sermons we heard were wells 
without water, and clouds without rain. Elegant 
in diction, admirable in style, and faultless in com- 
position, they fell on our ears even as the beautiful 
crystals of snow fall upon the surface of the brook, 
and only tend to swell its floods. Good morality, 
consistent practice, upright dealing, amiable be- 
haviour, gentle carriage, and modest deportment, 
were the everyday themes of the pulpit ; but alas ! 
they w T ere of as little service to us as instructions 
to dance- would be to a man who has lost both his 
legs. We have often been reminded by such 
preachers, of the d'octor who told a poor penniless 
widow that her sick son could easily be cured if 
she would give him the best wine, and remove him 
at once to Baden-Baden — the poor creature's 
fingers staring all the while through the tips of her 
worn-out gloves, as if they wished to see the man 
who gave advice so profoundly impracticable. 

Far be it from us to condemn the preaching of 
morality by such men, for it is doubtless all they 
can preach, and their intentions being good, it is 
probable they may sometimes be of service in re- 
straining the community from acts of disorder ; but 
we do deny the right of many to call themselves 
Christian ministers, while they constantly and sys- 



136 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

tematically neglect to declare the truths which lie 
at the very foundation of the Gospel. A respected 
bishop of the Episcopalian denomination,* in ad- 
dressing the clergy of the last century, said, " We 
have long been attempting to reform the nation by 
moral preaching. With what effect ? None. On 
the contrary, we have dexterously preached the 
people into downright infidelity. We must change 
our voice ; we must preach Christ and him cruci- 
fied ; nothing but the Gospel is the power of God 
unto salvation." We fear that in some measure 
this is the case even now — would that we dared to 
hope otherwise ! Let such of us as are engaged in 
the work of the ministry take heed to ourselves, 
and to our doctrine, that we cause no needless pain, 
and retard no man's progress to a Saviour ; and let 
our reader look to his own soul's salvation, and 
select his pastor, not for his eloquence, learning, 
amiability, or popularity, but for his clear and con- 
stant testimony to the Gospel of Christ. The wit- 
ness of the pulpit must be incessantly evangelical, 
nor is a single exception to be allowed. A vener- 
able divine justly writes, "Faithful preachers never 
preach mere philosophy, nor mere metaphysics, nor 
mere morality."-)- How many poor souls may now 
be in bondage by your lifeless preaching, O ye who 
love anything better than the simple Gospel! What 

* Bishop Lavington. f Emmons. 



JESUS DESIRED. 137 

are ye but polished bolts on the dungeon- door of 
the distressed, or well-dressed halberdiers, affright- 
ing men from the palace of mercy ? Ah ! it will be 
well for some if they shall be able to wash their 
hands of the blood of souls, for verily in the cells 
of eternal condemnation there are heard no yells of 
horror more appalling than the shrieks of damned 
ministers. Oh, to have misled men — to have 
rained their souls for ever ! 

Happy suicide," who by his own hand escapes 
the sound of the curses of those he victimized ! 
happy in comparison with the man who will for 
ever hear the accusing voices of the many who have 
sunk to perdition through the rottenness of the 
doctrine which he offered them for their support. 
Here on our knees we fall, and pray for grace that 
we may ever hold up Jesus to the sinner ; not doc- 
trine without Jesus, which is as the pole without 
the brazen serpent, but Jesus — a wdiole Jesus — to 
poor lost sinners. We are sure that many con- 
vinced souls have tarried long in the most distress- 
ing condition, simply because, by reason of the 
poverty of their spiritual food, their weakness was 
so great that the cry of Hezekiah was theirs — u this 
day is a day of trouble ; for the children are come, 
to the birth, and there is not strength to bring 
forth. 1 '*)- May our glorified Jesus soon come into 

* Mr. Sadleir. f Isa. xxxvii. 3. 



138 THE SAINT AND HIS SAYIOUK. 






his Church, and raise up shepherds after his own 
heart, who, endowed with the Holy Spirit, full of 
sympathy, and burning with love, shall visit those 
who are out of the way, and guide the wanderer 
to the fold. Such men are still to be found. O 
reader, search them out, sit at their feet, receive 
their word, and be not disobedient to the com- 
mands which they utter from heaven. 

4. Misapprehension of the nature of salvation, 
in some cases, delays the happy hour of Christ's 
appearance. A natural tendency to legal ideas 
dims the mind to the perception of the doctrine 
of Jesus, which is grace and truth. A secret de- 
sire to do something in part to aid Jesus, prevents 
us from viewing him as " all our salvation, and all 
our desire." Humbled though we have been by 
the cutting down of all our righteousness, yet the 
old root will sprout — " at the scent of water it will 
bud ;" and so long as it does so, there can be no 
solid peace, no real cleaving to Christ. We must 
learn to spell the words law and grace, without 
mingling the letters. 

While sick men take two kinds of medicine there 
is little hope of a cure, especially if the two 
draughts are compounded of opposing ingredients ; 
the bird which lives on two trees, builds its nest 
on neither; and the soul halting between grace 
and works can never find rest for the sole of its 
foot. Perhaps, my reader, a secret and well-nigh 



JESUS DESIRED. 139 

imperceptible self-trust is the very thing which 
shuts out Christ from thy soul. Search and look. 

Not a lew seekers are expecting some extraordi- 
nary sign and wonder ere they can believe. They 
imagine that conversion will come upon them in 
some marvellous manner, like Mary's visitation by 
the angel. Naaman-like, they are dreaming that 
the prophet will strike his hand over the place, and 
they shall recover. " Go wash in Jordan seven 
times " has not enough mystery in it for their poor 
minds: " Except they see signs and wonders they 
will not believe." Let none, however, hope for 
miracles ; wonders do occur : some are brought to 
Jesus by vision and revelation, but far more are 
drawn by the usual means of grace, in a manner 
which is far removed from the marvellous. The 
Lord is not in the whirlwind, the Lord is not in the 
fire; but usually he speaketh in the still small 
voice. Surety it should be enough for us, if we 
find pardon in the appointed method, without de- 
siring to have rare and curious experiences, with 
which, in after years, we may gratify our own self- 
love, and elevate ourselves as singular favourites 
of heaven. Regeneration is indeed a supernatural 
work, but it is usually a silent one. It is a pulling 
down of strongholds, but the earth shakes not with 
the fall ; it is the building of a temple, but there is 
no sound of hammer at its erection ; like the sun- 
rise, it is not heralded by the blast of trumpet, nor 



140 THE SAINT AND HTS SAVIOITK. 

do wonders hide beneath its' wings. We know 
who is the mother of mystery ; do we desire to be 
her children? Strange phantoms and marvellous 
creatures find their dwelling-place in darkness; 
light is not in relationship with mystery ; let none 
be hoping to find it so. Believe and live is the 
plan of the Gospel ; if men would but lay aside 
their old ideas, they would soon find Jesus as their 
very present help; but because they look for un- 
promised manifestations, they seek in vain, until 
disappointment has taught them wisdom. 

5. Although the seeking penitent hath renounced 
all known sin, yet it may he that some sin of igno- 
rance yet remains unco?ifessed, and unrepented of, 
which will frequently be a cause of great and grie- 
vous delay. 

God, who searcheth Jerusalem with candles, 
will have us examine ourselves most thoroughly. 
He has issued a search-warrant to conviction, 
which giveth that officer a right to enter every 
room of our house, and command every Rachel to 
rise from her seat lest the images should be beneath 
her. Sin is so skilful in deception, that it is hard 
to discover all its lurking places ; neither is it easy 
to detect its character when brought before our 
eyes, since it will often borrow the garb of virtue, 
and appear as an angel of light ; nor should we our- 
selves use sufficient diligence in its destruction, if 
the delay of the needed mercy did not urge us to a 



JESUS DESIRED. 141 

more vigorous pursuit of the traitors wlic have 
brought us into grief. Our gracious Lord, for our 
own sake, desires the execution of our secret sins, 
and by his frowns he puts us upon the watch lest 
we should indulge or harbour them. 

Never, perhaps, shall we again possess so deep 
a horror of sin as in that moment when we 
well-nigh despaired of deliverance from it, and 
therefore never shall w T e be so fully prepared 
to exterminate it. Eternal wisdom will not al- 
low a season so propitious to pass without im- 
provement; and having melted our heart in the 
furnace till the scum floated on the surface, it doth 
not allow it to cool until the dross hath been 
removed. Look to thyself, O seeker, for peradven- 
ture the cause of thy pain lieth in thine own heart. 
How small a splinter prevents the healing of a 
festered wound ; extract it, and the cure is easy. 
Be wise; what thou doest do quickly, but do it 
perfectly ; thus shalt thou make sure work for 
eternity, and speed the hour of thine acceptance. 
Be sure sin will find thee out, unless thou dost find 
it out. A warrior stimulated the valour of his 
soldiers by simply pointing to the enemy and ex- 
claiming, " Lads, there they are, if you do not hill 
them., they will Itill youP Thus would we remind 
thee, that sin will destroy thee if thou dost not 
destroy it. Be concerned, then, to drive it from 
thine heart. 



142 THE SAINT AND HIS SAYIOTJK. 

6. Usefulness in after life is often increased by 
the bitter experience with which the soul is exer- 
cised while seeking after Jesus; but as this has 
already received our attention, we will close our 
meditations on the reasons for protracted delay, 
by the simple remark, that it is of far more impor- 
tance to a penitent to use every means for obtain- 
ing the Saviour's blessing, than to inquire into the 
motives which have hitherto made him deaf to his 
petitions. Earnestly do we entreat the mourner 
to strive to enter in at the straight gate, and to 
continue his cry — " Oh that 1 knew where I might 
tind him !" 

III. It is now our pleasant duty to direct the 
troubled spirit to the means of obtaining speedy 
and lasting peace. May the God who opened the 
eyes of the desolate Hagar in the wilderness, and 
guided her so that she saw a well of water whereat 
she tilled her empty bottle, use us as his finger to 
point the thirsting, dying sinner to the place where 
lie stands, who once said, "If any man thirst, let 
him come unto me and drink." Our rules shall be 
expressed in simple words — that the wayfaring 
man, though a fool, may not err therein. 

1. Go where he goes. Dost thou desire to present 
a petition to the king — wilt thou not £o to his 
palace to do it? Art thou blind — where shouldst 
thou sit but at the way-side, begging? Hast thou 
a sore disease — where is there a place more fitting 



JESUS DESIRED. 143 

for thee than the porch of Bethesda, where my 
Lord doth walk ? Art thou palsied — wilt thou not 
desire to be in his presence, though on thy bed 
thou be let down to the spot where he standeth ? 
Did not Obadiah and Ahab journey through the 
whole land of Israel to find Elijah ? and wilt not 
thou visit every place where there is hope of meet- 
ing Jesus ? Dost thou know where his haunts are ? 
Hast thou not heard that lie dwelleth on the hill 
of Zion, and hath fixed his throne of mercy within 
the gates of Jerusalem? Has it not been told thee 
that, he ofctimes comet h up to the feast, and mmgleth 
with the worshippers in his temple? Have not 
the saints assured thee that he walkcth in the 
midst of his Church, even as John, in vision, saw 
him among the golden candlesticks? Go, then, to 
the city which he hath chosen for his dwelling- 
place, and wait within the doors which he hath 
deigned to enter. If thou knowest of a gospel 
minister, sit in the solemn assembly over which he 
is president. If thou hast heard of a church which 
has been favoured with visits from its Lord, go 
and make one in the midst of them, that when he 
cometh he may bid thee put thine hand into his 
side, and be not faithless but believing. Lose no 
opportunity of attending the w T ord : Thomas doubt- 
ed, because he was not there when Jesus came. 

Let sermons and prayers be thy delight, because 
they are roads wherein the Saviour walketh. Let 



14:4: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

the righteous be thy constant company, for such ever 
bring Him where they come. It is the least thing 
thou canst do to stand where grace usually dispens- 
ed its favor. Even the beggar writes his petition 
on the flagstone of a frequented thoroughfare, be- 
cause he hopeth that among the many passers, some 
few at least will give him charity ; learn from him 
to offer thy prayers where mercies are known to 
move in the greatest number, that amid them all 
there may be one for thee. Keep thy sail up when 
there is no wind, that when it blows thou mayst 
not have need to prepare for it ; use means when 
thou seest no grace attending them, for thus wilt 
thou be in the way when grace comes. Better go 
fifty times and gain nothing than lose one good op- 
portunity. If the angel stir not the pool, yet lie 
there still, for it may be the moment when thou 
leavest it will be the season of his descending. 
" Being in the way, the Lord met with me," said 
one of old ; be thou in the way, that the Lord may 
meet with thee. Old Simeon found the infant 
Messiah in the Temple ; had he deserted its hal- 
lowed courts he might never have said, " Mine 
eyes have seen thy salvation." Be sure to keep in 
mercy's way. 

2. Cry after Him. Thou hast been lying in his 
path for many a day, but he has not turned his 
eye upon thee. What then ? Art thou content to 
let him pass thee by ? Art thou willing to lose so 



JESUS DESIRED. 145 

precious an opportunity ? Ko ! thou desirest life, 
and thou wilt not be ashamed to beg aloud for it : 
thou wilt not fear to take him for an example of 
whom it is written, " When he heard that it was 
Jesus of Nazareth, he began to ciy out and say, 
Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on me ! 
And many charged him that he should hold his 
peace ; but he cried the more a great deal, Thou 
Son of David, have mercy on me !" It is an old 
proverb, " We lose nothing by asking," and it is an 
older promise, Ask and ye shall receive." Be not 
afraid of crying too loudly. It is recorded, to the 
honour of Mordecai, that he cried with a loud cry ; 
and we know that the kingdom of heaven suffereth 
violence. Think it not possible to pray too fre- 
quently, but at morning, at noon, and at eventide, 
lift up thy soul unto God. Let not despondency stop 
the voice of thy supplication, for He who heareth 
the young ravens when they cry, w T ill in due time 
listen to the trembling words of thy desire. Give 
Him no rest until he hear thee ; like the importu- 
nate widow, be thou always at the heels of the 
great One ; give not up because the past has proved 
apparently fruitless, remember Jericho stood firm 
for six days, but yet when they gave an exceeding 
great shout, it fell' flat to the ground. u Arise, 
cry out in the night: in the beginning of the 
watches pour out thine heart like water before 
the face of the Lord. Let tears run down like a 

7 



146 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

river day and night : give thyself no rest ; let not 
the apple of thine eye cease." * Let groans, and 
sighs, and vows keep up perpetual assault at hea- 
ven's doors. 

" Groans fresh' d with vows, and vows made salt with tears ; 
Unscale his eyes, and scale his conquered ears: 
Shoot up the bosom-shafts of thy desire, 
Feather'd with faith, and double-fork'd with fire ; 
And they will hit: fear not, where Heaven bids come, 
Heav'n's never deaf, but when man's heart is dumb." 

Augustine sweetly writes, " Thou may est seek after 
honours, and not obtain them ; thou mayest labour 
for riches, and yet remain poor ; thou mayest dote 
on pleasures, and have many sorrows. But our 
God of his supreme goodness says, Who ever 
sought me, and found me not ? who ever desired 
me, and obtained me not ? who ever loved me, and 
missed of me ? I am with him that seeks for me : 
he hath me already that wisheth for me ; and he 
that loveth me is sure of my love." Try whether 
it be not so, O reader, for so have we found it. 

3. Think of his promises. He has uttered many 
sweet and gracious words, which are like the call 
of the hen, inviting thee to nestle beneath his 
wings, or like white flags of truce bidding thee 
come without fear. There is not a single promise 
which, if followed up, will not lead thee to the 
Lord. He is the centre of the circle, and the 

* Lam. u, 18, 19. 



JESUS DESIRED. 147 

promises, like radii, all meet in him and thence 
become Yea and Amen. As the streams run to 
the ocean, so do all the sweet words of Jesus tend 
to himself: launch thy bark upon any one of them, 
and it shall bear thee onward to the broad sea of 
his love. Lost on a dreary moor, the "wanderer 
discovers his cottage by the light in the window 
casting a gleam over the darkness of the waste ; so 
also must we find out " our dwelling-place " by the 
lamps of promise which our Saviour hath placed 
in the windows of his word. The handkerchiefs 
brought from the person of Paul healed the sick ; 
surely the promises, which are the garments of 
Christ, will avail for all diseases. We all know 
that the key of promise will unfasten every lock in 
Doubting Castle ; will we be content to lie any 
longer in that dungeon when that key is ready to 
our hand % A large number of the ransomed of the 
Lord have received their liberty by means of a 
cheering word applied with power. Be thou con- 
stant in reading the w r ord and meditation thereon. 
Amid the fair flowers of promise groweth the rose 
of Sharon — pluck the promises, and thou mayest 
find Him with them. He feedeth among the lilies 
— do thou feed there also. The sure words of 
Scripture are the footsteps of Jesus imprinted on 
the soil of mercy — follow the track and find Him. 
The promises are cards of admission not only to the 
throne, the mercy-seat, and the audience-chamber, 



148 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

but to the very heart of Jesus. Look aloft to the 
sky of Revelation, and thou wilt yet find a constel- 
lation of promises which shall guide thine eye to 
the star of Bethlehem. Above all, cry aloud when 
thou readest a promise, " Remember thy word unto 
thy servant, on which thou hast caused me to 
hope." - 

4. Meditate on his person and his work. If we 
were better acquainted with Jesns, we should find 
it more easy to believe him. Many souls mourn 
because they cannot make themselves believe ; and 
the constant exhortations of ministers persuading 
them to faith, cause them to sink deeper in the 
mire, since all their attempts prove ineffectual. It 
were well for both if they would remember that the 
mind is not to be compelled to belief by exhorta- 
tion or force of will ; a small acquaintance with the 
elements of mental science would suffice to show 
them that faith, is a result of previous states of the 
mind, and flows from those antecedent conditions, 
but is not a position to which we can attain without 
passing through those other states which the Divine 
laws, both of nature and of grace, have made the 
stepping-stones thereto. Even in natural things, 
we cannot believe a thing simply because we are 
persuaded to do so ; we require evidence ; we ask, 
" What are we to believe V we need instruction 
on the matter before we can lay hold upon it. In 
spiritual things especially we need to know what 



.TESTIS DESIRED. 149 

we are to believe, and why. We cannot by one 
stride mount to faith, and it is at least useless, not 
to say cruel, to urge us to do so, unless we are told 
the grounds on which our faith must rest. Some 
men endeavour to preach sinners to Christ ; we 
prefer to preach Christ to sinners. We believe 
that a faithful exhibition of Jesus crucified will, 
under the Divine blessing, beget faith in hearts 
where fiery oratory and vehement declamation 
have failed. Let this be borne in mind by those 
who are bew r ailing themselves, in the words of 
John Newton : 

" Oh, could but I believe, 
Then all would easy be ; 
I would, but cannot — Lord, relieve ! 
My help must come from thee." 

Thou wilt not long have need to pray in this fash- 
ion if thou canst obey the rule we would put before 
thee, which is, meditate on Jesus ; reflect upon the 
mystery of his incarnation and redemption ; and 
frequently picture the agonies of Gethsemane and 
Calvary. The cross not only demands faith, but 
causes it. The same Christ who requires faith for 
salvation doth infuse faith into all those who do 
meekly and reverently meditate upon his sacrifice 
and mediation. We learn to believe in an honest 
man by an acquaintance with him, even so (although 
faith be the gift of God, yet he giveth it in the use 



150 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

of the means) it cometh to pass that by frequent 
consideration of Jesus, we know him, and therefore 
trust in him. Go thou to the gloomy brook of Ke- 
dron, make Getbsemane thy garden of retirement, 
tread the blood-stained Gabbatha, climb the hill 
of Calvary, sit at the foot of the accursed tree, 
watch the victim in his agonies, listen to his groans, 
mark his flowing blood, see his head bowed on his 
breast in death, look into his open side ; then walk 
to the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea, behold him 
rise, witness his ascension, and view him exalted 
far above principalities and powers, as the mediator 
for sinful men : thus shalt thou see and believe, for 
verily hard is that unbelief which can endure such 
sights ; and if the Holy Spirit lead thee to a true 
vision of them, thou shalt believe inevitably, find- 
ing it impossible longer to be incredulous. A true 
view of Calvary will smite unbelief with death, and 
put faith into its place. Spend hours in holy re- 
tirement, tracing his pilgrimage of woe, and thou 
shalt soon sing, 

" Oh how sweet to view the flowing 
Of his soul-re deeming blood ; 
With Divine assurance knowing 
That he made my peace with God !" 

5. Venture on Him. This is the last but best 
advice we give thee, and if thou hast attended to 
that which precedes it, thou wilt be enabled to fol- 



JESUS DESIRED. 151 

low it. We have said " venture," but we imply 
no venture of risk, but one of courage. To be 
saved it is required of thee to renounce all hope of 
salvation by any save Jesus — that thou hast sub- 
mitted to. Next thou art called upon to cast thy- 
self entirely on him, prostrating thyself before his 
cross, content to rely wholly on Him. Do this, and 
thou art saved, refuse and thou art damned. Sub 
scribe thy name to this simple rhyme — 

" I'm a poor sinner, and nothing at all, 
But Jesus Christ is my all in all ;" 

and, doing this, thou art secure of heaven. 

Dost thou delay because of unworthiness ? Oh do 
not so, for he invites thee just as thou art. Thou 
art not too sinful, for he is " able to save unto the 
uttermost." Think not little of his power or his 
grace, for he is infinite in each ; only fall flat upon 
his gracious declaration, and thou shalt be em- 
braced by his mercy. To believe is to take Jesus 
at his word, and when all things dery thee the 
hope of salvation, still to call Him yours. Now 
we beseech thee launch into the deep, now cut thy 
moorings and give up thyself to the gale, now leave 
the rudder in his hands, and surrender thy keeping 
to his guardianship. In this way alone shalt thou 
obtain peace and ete nal life. 

May the Directing Spirit lead us each to Him in 
whom there is light, and whose light is the life of 
men. 



TO THE UNCONVERTED READEE. 



. Friend — Love to tliy soul constrains us to set 
apart this small enclosure for thine especial benefit. 
Oh that thou hadst as much love for thine own soul 
as the writer has ! Though he may have never seen 
thee, yet remember when he wrote these lines he 
put up an especial prayer for thee, and he had thee 
on his heart while he penned these few but earnest 
words. 

O Friend, thou art no seeker of Jesus, but the 
reverse ! To thine own confusion thou art going 
from him instead of to him ! Oh, stay a moment 
and consider thy ways — thy position — thine end! 

As for thy ways, they are not only wrong before 
God, but they are uneasy to thyself. Thy con- 
science, if it be not seared with a hot iron, is every 
day thundering at thee on account of thy paths of 
folly. Oh that thou wouldst turn from thine error, 
while the promise is yet within hearing, "Let 
the wicke 1 forsake his way, and the unrighteous 

152 



JESUS DESIRED. 153 

man bis thoughts; and let him return unto the 
Lord, and he will have mercy upon him, and unto 
our God, for he will abundantly pardon." Be not 
betrayed into a continuance in these ways in the 
vain hope that thy life will be prolonged to an in- 
definite period, wherein thou hopest to accomplish 
repentance ; for life is as frail as the bubble on the 
breaker, and as swift as the Indian arrow. To-mor- 
row may never come, oh use " to-day" — 

Now, is the constant syllable ticking from the clock of time ; 
Now, is the watchword of the wise ; Now, is on the banner of 

the prudent. 
Cherish thy to-day, and prize it well, or ever it be engulphed 

in the past ; 
Husband it, for who can promise if it shall have a to-morrow."* 

" To-morrow is a fatal lie — the wrecker's beacon — 
wily snare of the destroyer ;" be wise, and see to 
thy ways while time waits for thee. 

Consider next thy position. A condemned crim- 
inal waiting for execution ; a tree, at the root of 
which the axe is gleaming ; a target, to which the 
shaft of death is speeding ; an insect beneath the 
finger of vengeance waiting to be crushed ; a wretch 
hurried along by the strong torrent of time to an 
inevitable precipice of doom. 

Thy present position is enough to pale the cheek 
of carlessness, and move the iron knees of profanity 

* Tupper's Proverbial Philosophy. 

7* 




154: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 



A man asleep in a burning house, or with his neck 
upon the block of the headsman, or laying before 
the mouth of a cannon, is not in a more dangerous 
case than thou art. Oh bethink thee, ere desola- 
tion, destruction and damnation, seal up thy des- 
tiny, and stamp thee with despair ! 

Be sure, also, that thou consider thy latter end, 
for it is thine whether thou consider it or no. Thou 
art ripening for hell ; oh, how wilt thou endure its 
torments ! Ah ! if thou wouldst afford a moment 
to visit, in imagination, the cells of the condemned, 
it might benefit thee for ever. What ! fear to ex- 
amine the house in which thou art to dwell ? 
What ! rush to a place and fear to see a picture of 
it ? Oh let thy thoughts precede thee, and if they 
bring back a dismal story, it may induce thee to 
change thy mind, and tread another path ! Thou 
wilt lose nothing by meditation, but rather gain 
much thereby. Oh let the miseries of lost souls 
warn thee lest thou also come into this place of 
torment ! May the day soon arrive when thou 
canst cry after the Lord, and then even thou shalt 
be delivered ! 



IV. 
JESUS PARDONING. 



*' The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin."— 
1 John i. 1. 



l l I will praise thee every day, 
Now thine anger's turn'd away : 
Comfortable thoughts arise 
From the bleeding sacrifice. 
Jesus is become at length, 
My salvation and my strength ; 
And his praises shall prolong, 
While I live, my pleasant song." 



Let our lips crowd sonnets within the compass 
of a word ; let our voice distil hours of melody in- 
to a single syllable; let our tongue utter in one 
letter the essence of the harmony of ages : for we 
write of an hour which as far excelleth all the days 
of our life as gold exceedeth dross. As the night 
of Israel's passover was a night to be remembered, 
a theme for bards, and an incessant fountain of 

155 



156 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

grateful song, even so is the time of which we 
now speak, the never-to-be-forgotten hour of our 
emancipation from guilt, and of our justification 
in Jesus. 

Other days have mingled with their fellows till, 
like coins worn in circulation, their image and su- 
perscription are entirely obliterated ; but this day 
remaineth new, fresh, bright, as distinct in all its 
parts as if it were but yesterday struck from the 
mint of time. Memory shall drop from her palsied 
hand full many a memento which now she che- 
rishes, but she shall never, even when she tottereth 
to the grave, unbind from her heart the token of 
the thrice-happy hour of the redemption of our 
spirit. The emancipated galley-slave may forget 
the day which heard his broken fetters rattle on 
the ground ; the pardoned traitor may fail to re- 
member the moment when the axe of the heads- 
man was averted by a pardon ; and the long-des- 
pairing mariner may not recollect the moment 
when a friendly hand snatched him from the 
hungry deep : but O hour of forgiven sin ! mo- 
ment of perfect pardon ! our soul shall never for- 
get thee while within her life and being find an 
immortality. 

Each day of our life hath had its attendant 
angel ; but on this day, like Jacob at Mahanaim, 
hosts of angels met us. The sun hath risen every 
morning, but on that eventful morn he had the 



JESUS PARDONING. 157 

light of seven days. As the days of heaven upon 
earth— as the years of immortality — as the ages of 
glory — as the bliss of heaven, so were the hours 
of that thrice-happy day. Rapture divine, and 
ecstasy inexpressible, tilled our soul. Fear, dis- 
tress, and grief, with all their train of woes, fled 
hastily away ; and in their place joys came with- 
out number. Like as terrors fly before the rising 
sunlight, so vanished all our dark forebodings, and 

" As morn her rosy steps in the eastern clime, 
Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl," 

so did grace strew our heart with priceless gems 
of joy. "For, lo, the winter was past; the rain 
was over and gone ; the flowers appeared on the 
earth ; the time of the singing of birds was come ; 
and the voice of the turtle was heard in our land ; 
the fig-tree put forth her green figs, and the vines 
with the tender grape gave a good smell, when 
our Beloved spake, and said, i Arise, my love, my 
fair one, and come away.' " . Our buried powers, 
upspringing from the dark earth, where corruption 
had buried them, budded, blossomed, and brought 
forth clusters of fruit. Our soul was all awake to 
gladness; conscience sang approval; judgment 
joyfully attested the validity of the acquittal ; 
hope painted bright visions for the future ; while 
imagination knew no bounds to the eagle-flight of 
her loosened wing. The city of Mansoul had a 



158 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

grand illumination, and even its obscurest lanes 
and alleys were hung with lamps of brilliance. 
The bells of our soul rang merry peals, music and 
dancing filled every chamber, and every room was 
perfumed with flowers. Our heart was flooded 
with delight ; like a bottle full of new wine, it 
needed vent. It contained as much of heaven as 
the finite can hold of infinity. It was wedding- 
day with our soul, and we wore robes fairer than 
ever graced a bridal. By night angels sang — 
" Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, 
goodwill towards men; and in the morning, re- 
membering their midnight melodies, we sang them 
o'er again. We walked in Paradise ; we slept in 
bowers of amaranth ; we drank draughts of nectar 
from goblets of gold, and fed on luscious fruits 
brought to us in baskets of silver. 

" The liquid drops of tears that we once shed 
Came back again, transform' d to richest pearl ;" 

the breath we spent in sighs returned upon us la- 
den with fragrance ; the past, the present, the fu- 
ture, like three fair sisters, danced around us, light 
of foot and gladsome of heart. We had discovered 
the true alchymist's stone, which, turning all to 
gold, had transmuted all within us into the purest 
metal. We were rich, immensely rich ; for Christ 
was ours, and we were heirs with Him. 

Our body, too, once the clog and fetter of our 



JESUS PAEDONING. 159 

spirit, became the active partner of our bliss. Our 
eyes were windows lighted up with happiness ; our 
feet were young roes bounding with pleasure ; our 
lips were fountains gushing with song, and our ears 
were the seats of minstrels. It was hard to contain 
our rapture within the narrow bounds of prudence. 
Like the insects leaping in the sunshine, or the fish 
sporting in the stream, we could have danced to and 
fro in the convulsions of our delight. Were we 
sick, our pleasure drowned our pain ; were we fee- 
ble, our bliss renewed our strength. Each broken 
bone praised Him ; each, strained sinew blessed 
Him ; our whole flesh extolled Him. Every sense 
was the inlet of joy, and the outlet of praise. As 
the needle stayeth at the pole, so did our quivering 
frame rest on Him. We knew no thought beyond, 
no hope above, the perfect satisfaction of that hour ; 
for Christ and his salvation had filled us to the very 
brim. 

All nature appeared to sympathize with us. We 
went forth with joy, and were led forth with peace ; 
the mountains and the hills broke forth before us into 
singing, and all the trees of the field clapped their 
hands. The fields, the floods, the sky, the air, the 
sun, the stars, the cattle, the birds, the fish — yea, 
the very stones seemed sharers of our joy. They 
were the choir, and we the leaders of a band, who 
at the lifting of our hand poured forth whole floods 
of harm my. 



160 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

Perhaps our birthday found the earth wrapped 
in the robes of winter, but its snowy whiteness was 
all in keeping with the holiday of our spirit. Each 
snow-flake renewed the assurance of our pardon, 
for we were now washed whiter than snow. The 
burial of the earth in its winding-sheet of white be- 
tokened to us the covering of our sins by the right- 
eousness of Jesus. The trees, festooned with ice- 
drops, glittered in the sun as if they had coined 
stars to shine upon us ; and even the chill blast, as 
it whirled around us, appeared but an image of that 
power which had carried our sins away, as far as 
the east is from the west. Sure, never was winter 
less wintery than then, for in a nobler sense than 
the poet * we can affirm — 

" With frequent foot, 
Pleas'd have I, in my cheerful morn of life, 
Trod the pure snows, myself as pure." 

Grace enabled us to find a song where others did 
but murmur. 

It may be we were brought to love the glorious 
Redeemer in the spring-time of the year ; and if so, 
our quickened spirit found all around it the coun- 
ter part of the world within. We, too, like the lit- 
tle flowers, were rising from our tombs ; like the 
sweet birds, expecting brighter days, we sung the 
songs of promise; like the rippling brooks, un- 

* Thompson. 



JESUS PARDONING. 161 

bound from our captivity, we leaped in hasty joy ; 
and like the woodlands, we were " prodigal of har- 
mony." The mountains, lifting their green heads 
to the sky, we charged to tell our Maker how we 
desired to approach his footstool ; and the valleys, 
bleating with the flocks, were bidden to commend 
us to the notice of the great Shepherd of the sheep. 
The falling rains we thanked as emblems of him 
who cometh down "like rain upon the mown 
grass ;" and the smiling sun we owned as a type of 
his great Lord, who bringeth healing beneath his 
wings. 

" We walk'd 
The sunuy glade, and felt an inward bliss 
Beyond the power of kings to purchase." 

Aye, and beyond the power of kings to guess if 
they, too, had not felt the same. As the portals of 
earth were opening for the coming of the summer, 
so were we preparing for glorious days of happiness 
and fruitfulness. Everything in creation was in 
keeping with our condition, as if nature was but a 
dress made by a skilful hand, fitting our new-born 
soul in every part. We were supremely blest. 
Our heart was like a bell dancing at bridal joys, 
and the world was full. of bells chiming with it. 
We were glad, and nature cried, " Child, lend me 
thine hand, and we will dance together, for I too 
am at ease since my great Lord hath loosed me 



162 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

from my wintry fetters ; come on, favoured one, 
and wander where thou wilt, for 

" ' The soft'ning air is balm; 
Echo the mountains round ; the forest smiles ; 
And every sense, and every heart is joy.' 

Come on, then, and sport with me on this our mu- 
tual feast." 

If in summer we brought forth fruits meet for 
repentance, and were planted in the garden of the 
Lord, the soil on which we trod was prolific of 
emblems of our own condition, and of creatures 
sympathising with our joy; and the sky which 
canopied our dwelling-place was woven like a 
tapestry with praises of our Lord. When the rain- 
bow bridged the sky, we hailed it as the sign of 
the eternal covenant made with us by Him who 
keepeth truth to all generations ; if the steaming 
river sent its exhalation to the clouds, we put our 
song upon its altar that it might ascend with it ; if 
the dewdrops sparkled on the breast of morn, " the 
dew of our youth " rejoiced at their kindred beauty; 
or if the soft winds breathed odours, we bade them 
receive another burden, while we perfumed them 
with the name of Jesus. Whether we walked the 
sea-side, and thought the waves washed blessings 
to our feet, or found beneath the high rock a grate- 
ful shelter from the heat, or drank the stream 
whose waters were sweeter to our taste than e'er 



JESUS PAKDONING. 163 

before, we were by every object drawn upward 
evermore to contemplate the Lord our Redeemer, 
who in every scene of nature was set forth in 
miniature. All summers had been winters com- 
pared with this ; for now we had flowers in our 
heart, a sun in our soul, fruits in our spirit, songs 
in our thoughts, and joy and heat in our affections. 
Till then we never knew the glory of this mighty 
world, because we did not know it to be our 
Father's and our own ; but then we looked from 
the hill-top on the wide-spread scene with the eyes 
of a young heir just come to his estate, or a fresh- 
crowned monarch whose fair dominions stretch 
beneath his feet far as the eye can see. Then we 
felt, in fact, what we had only heard in poetry, the 
noble birthright of a regenerated man — 

" His are the mountains, and the valleys his ; 
And the resplendent rivers. His to enjoy, 
With a propriety that none can feel ; 
But who, with filial confidence inspir'd, 
Can lift to heaven an unpresumptuous eye, 
And smiling say, ' My Father made them all.' 
Are they not his by a peculiar right, 
And by an emphasis of interest his, 
Whose eye they fill with tears of holy joy, 
Whose heart with praise, and whose exalted mind 
With worthy thoughts of that unwearied love, 
That plann'd, and built, and still upholds, a world 
So cloth'd with beauty for rebellious man ?" 

O happy spirit ! tuned aright to unison with a fair 



164 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

earth, man's first inheritance, lost till by grace 
again we call it ours, and know it to be beautiful. 
Words fail to describe the Divine rapture of the 
spirit ; and however well a poet may paint nature 
as he sees it, yet though he succeed to his own 
satisfaction, the new-born child of God, whose 
feelings are richer even than the wealth of poesy, 
will feel that he hath but poorly pencilled what his 
now enlightened eye beholds with raptures of 
delight. This world is a great music-box, and he 
who hath the key can set it playing, while others 
with open mouth are wondering whence the song 
proceedeth. Nature is a colossal organ, and the 
frail fingers of man may move its keys to thunders 
of music ; but the organist is usually unseen, and 
the world knows not how such majestic sounds are 
begotten. Summer is earth in court-dress ; and 
if the heart be so, it will know to what court sum- 
mer belongeth, and will call him friend. 

Need we reiterate our joys by laying autumn 
also under contribution ? Truly, if then we found 
our Lord, the ripened fruit did taste more lusciously 
than ever. The yellow suit in which the year 
was clad shone in our eyes like burnished gold. 
Even as old Autumn — 

" Joy'd in his plenteous store, 
Laden with fruits that made him laugh, full glad 
That he had banish'd hunger," 



JESUS PARDONING. 105 

so did we rejoice that our hunger and thirst were 
satisfied with ripe fruit from the tree of life. The 
harvest-home echoed to our heart's glad shouts, 
and the vintage songs kept tune with our loud re- 
joicings. 

All seasons of the year are alike beautiful to 
those who know how to track the Creator's foot- 
steps along the road of providence, or who have 
found a token of his grace, and therefore bless the 
hour in which it came. There is neither stick nor 
stone, nor insect, nor reptile, which will not teach 
us praise when the soul is in such a state as that 
whereof we now are musing : — 

" There's music in the sighing of a reed ; 
There's music in the gushing of a rill ; 
There's music in all things, if men had ears ; 
Their earth is but an echo of the spheres." * 

The one pardoning word of the Lord of all abso- 
lution hath put music into all things, even as the 
trump of the archangel shall breathe life into the 
dead. Those drops of atoning blood have put fair 
colours upon all creation, even as the sunrise paints 
the earth, which else had been one huge blot of 
darkness. 

How doubly dear do all our mercies become at 
the moment when Christ shines on us ! the bread 
of our table is well nigh as holy as the bread of the 

* Byron. 



166 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

Eucharist ; the wine we chink tastes as sacred as 
that of His consecrated cup ; each meal is a sacra- 
ment, each sleep hath its Jacob's vision ; our 
clothes are vestments, and our house a temple. 
We may be sons of poverty, but when Jesus comes, 
for that day, at least, he strews our floor with sand 
of gold, and plants upon the roof hard-by the 
ancient house-leek, flowers of sweet contentment, 
of which heaven need not be ashamed. "We are 
made so happy in our low estate at that transport- 
ing word of grace which gives us liberty, that we 
do not envy princes their crowns, nor would their 
wealth tempt us from the happy spot where our 
Lord deigns to give us his company. 

Oh that blest day ! again our memory rushes 
back to it, and rapture glows even at its mention. 
Many days have passed since then ; but as the one 
draught of sweet water refreshes the camel over 
many a mile of desert, so doth that happy hour 
still cheer us as we remember it. Beginning of 
the days of heaven ! Firstborn of morning ! Pro- 
phet of blessings ! Funeral of fears ! Birthday of 
hope ! Day of our spirit's betrothal ! Day of God 
and day of mercy ! — oh that we had power to sing 
the joy which kindles our passions to a flame while 
we review thee ! or rather, oh that we had grace 
to hymn His praise who made thee such a day ! 
Doth the stranger inquire, What hath so distin- 
guished that day above its fellows ? the answer is 



JESUS PARDONING. 167 

already knocking at the door of our lips to ol)tain 
an egress. We were released from the thraldom 
of sin, we were delivered from the scourges of con- 
science, we were ransomed from the bondage of 
law, we were emancipated from the slavery of cor- 
ruption ; death vanished before the quickening of 
the Holy Ghost, poverty was made rich with infinite 
treasures of grace, and hunger felt itself satisfied 
with good things. Naked before, we on that day 
put on the robes of princes ; black, w T e washed our- 
selves clean in a bath of blood ; sick, we received 
instant healing; despairing, we rejoiced with joy 
unspeakable. Ask her who lias had the issue of 
her blood stanched by a touch ; ask yon healed 
demoniac, or his companion who throws away the 
crutch of his long halting, why on that day of re- 
covery they were glad ; and they will exhibit their 
own persons as reasons for their joy : so, O wonder- 
ing gazer, look on us and solve the mystery of our 
enthusiastic song. We ourselves are our own 
answer to your inquiries. 

Let us summon memory again to lead the choir, 
while all that is within us doth bless His holy 
name. "He spake and it was done;" "He said, 
Let there be light, and there was light." He 
passed by, in the greatness of 1 is love and in the 
plenitude of his power, and bade us live. O eyes 
of beauty, how were ye outdone by his sweet 
looks ! He was fairer than the sons of men, and 



168 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

lovelier than a dream when he manifested himself 
unto us. Lying by the pool of mercy, we pined 
away with disappointment, for none would put us 
into the healing water; but his love stayed not 
for an instant, he said, "Take up thy bed and walk." 
Ah, where shall thunders be found which will lend 
us voices ? where floods which can lend us uplifted 
hands ? for we need these to utter half His praise. 
Angels, your sonnets and your golden canticles 
are poor, poor things for our sweet Lord Jesus. 
He deserveth notes which your voices cannot 
afford, and music which dwells not within the 
strings of your most melodious harps. He must be 
his own poet, for none but he can sing himself. 
He knows, and only he, that depth of love within 
his bleeding heart, some drops of which we drank 
on that auspicious morning of redemption. He 
can tell, and only he, the transporting sound of 
that sweet assurance which laid our fears to rest 
in his own sepulchre. He alone can testify what 
he hath wrought ; for, as for us, we were asleep 
on the mount of joy ; "when God turned back the 
captivity ofZion, we were like men that dreamed; 
our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue 
with singing."* J3e, our Light, did light a candle 
around us ; our " conversation was in heaven ;" 
our soul made us like the chariots of Amminadib ; 

* Ps. cxxvi. 1, 2. 






JESUS PARDONING. 169 

" Our rapture seem'd a pleasing dream, 
The grace appear'd so great." 

We cried out in wonder, love, and praise, 
"Whence is this to me?* and what am I, and 
what is my Father's house, that the Lord hath 
visited me, and brought me hitherto." f Our dark 
and loathsome prison still made our garments lo 
smell of its mouldiness, and this quickened our 
gratitude for our deliverance. Like Jonah, fresh 
from the whale's belly, we were willing enough 
for service of any kind ; all too giad to have come 
up alive from "the bottoms of the mountains," 
where we feared that " the earth with her bars 
was about us for ever." Is ever did lark spring 
from his cage door to the sky with half such speed 
as that which we made when we obtained our 
liberty from the iron bondage ; no young roe e'er 
bounded so nimbly over the hills as did our hearts 
when they were " like hinds let loose." We could 
almost re-tread the steps of our pilgrimage to sing 
once more that song of triumph over a host of sins 
buried in the sea of forge tfuln ess, or drink again 
of the wells of Elim, or sit beneath those seventy 
palm-trees. 

Dear spot of ground where Jesus met us ! dear 
hour which brought us to his feet ! and precious, 
lips of Jesus, which spoke us free ! That hour 

* Luke i. 43. + 2 Sam. vii. 18. 

8 



170 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

shall lead the song, and every hour shall join the 
chorus of — " Unto him that loved us, and washed 
us from our sins in his own blood, and hath 
made us kings and priests unto god and his 
Father, to him be glory and dominion for ever. 
Amen." 

Hath it been in our power to have handled the 
poet's style and measure, we might more fully 
have expressed our emotions; but if our pen be 
not that of a ready writer, at least our heart is 
inditing a good matter. We close by an interest- 
ing account of conversion, illustrating its intense 
darkness, and its succeeding unspeakable light. 
It is an extract from that valuable and interesting 
biography, entitled, Struggles for Life. After 
hearing a powerful sermon, he goes home much 
impressed : — " I spoke to no one, and did not dare 
to lift my eyes from my feet, as I expected the 
earth to open and swallow me. The commotion 
of my soul was altogether such as language cannot 
describe. I crept to my room, locked the door, 
and fell upon my knees ; but no words came. 1 
could not pray. The perspiration was oozing from 
every pore. How long I lay on my knees I know 
not; happily, this fearful agony of mind did not 
last long, or I should have died. Some hours 
elapsed — hours like ages ; in which I felt myself 
before the throne of righteous judgment, and while 
the process was going on I was dumb. Had the 



JESUS PARDONING. 171 

salvation of my soul depended upon a word, I 
could not have uttered it. But he who had smit- 
ten, graciously healed. As if they had been 
slowly unfolded before me, there appeared these 
never-to-be-forgotten words: — 'The blood of Jesus 
Christ cleanseth us from all sin.' 

" I had read and heard these wonderful words 
often, but now they appeared new to me. I gazed, 
believed, loved, and embraced them. The crisis 
was past. A flood of tears rushed from my eyes ; 
my tongue was set at liberty. I prayed, and per- 
haps it was the first time in my life that I really 
did pray. 

" For three days after this I was filled with inde- 
scribable joy. I thought I saw heaven, with its 
blessed inhabitants, and its glorious king. I thought 
he was looking on me with unutterable compassion, 
and that I recognised Him as Jesus, my Saviour, 
who had laid me under eternal obligation. The 
world and all its concerns, appeared utterly worth- 
less. The conduct of ungodly men filled me with 
grief and pity. I saw everything in an entirely 
new light : a strong desire to fly to heathen lands, 
that I might preach the good news to idolaters, 
filled my heart. I longed to speak about the grand 
discovery I had made, and felt assured that I had 
but to open my lips to convince every one of the 
infinite grace of Christ, and the infinite value of 
salvation. And I thought my troubles over, and 



172 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

that, henceforth, the same scenes of joy and hal- 
lowed peace were to pass before my eyes, and 
fill my heart." 

Such feelings are not the lot of all to the same 
degree ; but an exceedingly large proportion of the 
Lord's redeemed will recognise this experience as 
" the path of the just ;" and some Avho read will re- 
joice to see here a fair copy of their inner life at 
this very moment. 

May the God of all grace bring each of us to this 
fair land of Beulah, this palace of delights, this 
chamber of bliss. Amen. 






TO THE UNCONVERTED EEADEE. 



Friend — Thou art amazed at this, for it sounds 
like a wild legend or fairy tale. Thou knowest no- 
thing of such joy; this is a spring from which thou 
hast never drawn living water. How much dost 
thou lose by thine impenitence, and how poor are 
the things which recompense thy loss ! "What are 
thy delights but bubbles ? what thy pleasure but 
sweet poisons ? and what thy most substantial bliss 
but a deceptive, illusive vision of the night ? Oh 
that thou wer| able to judge between genuine and 
counterfeit, real and fictitious ! Sure one grain of 
right reason would teach thee the superiority of 
spiritual joys to mere carnal excitements. Thou art 
not so far bereft of judgment as to put any one of 
thine high carnival days in competition with the 
time of pardoned sin. Thou wilt not venture to 
compare thy sweetest wine with that wine of hea- 
ven which Hows into the lips of the sinner who is 
forgiven ; nor wilt thou bring thy music into 

1T3 



174 THE 8ATNT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

rivalry with that which welcomes the returning 
prodigal. Answer these two questions, we beseech 
thee, What doth it profit thee to sin against God ? 
and, What shall it profit thee, at last, if thou 
shouldst gain the whole world and lose thine own 
soul? Will a few carnal merriments repay thee 
for unnumbered woes? Will transient sunlight 
make amends for everlasting darkness? Will 
wealth, or honour, or ambition, or lust, furnish thee 
with an easy pillow when thou shalt make thy bed 
in hell ? In hell thou shalt be if thou hast not 
Christ. Oh! remember God is just ; and, because 
he will be just, Prepare to meet thy God ! 



V. 

JOY AT CONVERSION. 



"The Lord hath done great things for us; whereof we are glad." 
Ps. cxxvl. 3. 



1 love, thou bottomless abyss ! 
My sins are swallowed up in thee ; 
Covered is my unrighteousness, 
Nor spot of guilt remains on me ; 
While Jesus' blood, through earth and skies, 
Mercy, free, boundless mercy cries. 
With faith I plunge me in this sea ; 
Here is my hope, my joy, my rest; 
Hither when hell assails I flee ; 
I look into my Saviour's breast ; 
Away, sad doubt, and anxious fear ! 
Mercy is all that's written there. 
Fixed on this ground will I remain, 
Though my heart fail, and flesh decay ; 
This anchor shall my soul sustain, 
When earth's foundations melt away, 
Mercy's full power I then shall prove, 
Loved with an everlasting love." 

175 



176 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 



He who dares to prescribe one uniform standard 
of experience for the children of God, is either 
grievously ignorant or hopelessly full of self-esteem. 
Facts teach us that in the highway to heaven there 
are many paths, not all equally near to the middle 
of the road, but nevertheless trodden by the feet of 
real pilgrims. Uniformity is not God's' rule ; in 
grace as well as providence he' delights to display 
the most charming variety. In the matter of con- 
version this holds good of its attendant rejoicing, 
for all do not alike sing aloud the same rapturous 
song. All are glad, but all are not alike so. One 
is quiet, another excitable ; one is constitutionally 
cheerful, another is inclined to melancholy: these 
will necessarily feel different degrees of spiritual 
ecstasy, and will have their own peculiar modes of 
expressing their sense of peace with God. 

It is true, God usually displays unto the newly 
regenerate much of the riches of his grace ; but 
there arc many who must be content to wait for 
this till a future period. Though he dearly loves 
every penitent soul, yet he does not always mani- 
fest that love. God is a free agent to work where 
he will and when he will, and to reveal his love 
even to his own elect in his own chosen seasons. 
One of the best of the Puritans hath wisely written, 
"God oftentimes works grace in a silent and secret 
way, and takes sometimes five, sometimes ten, 
sometimes twenty years — yea, sometimes more — 



JOY AT CONVERSION. 177 

before he will make a clear and satisfying report 
of his own work upon the soul. It is one thing for 
God to work a work of grace upon the soul, and 
another thing for God to show the soul that work. 
Though our graces are our best jewels, yet they 
are sometimes at first conversion so weak and im- 
perfect that we are not able to see their lustre." 
All rules have exceptions; so we find there are 
some who do not rejoice with this joy of harvest, 
which many of us have the privilege of remem- 
bering. 

Let none conceive, therefore, that we think our 
book to be an infallible map from which none will 
differ ; on the contrary, we shall feel happy if it 
shall suit the experience of even a few, and shall 
break the chains of any who are enslaved by the 
system of spiritual standards set up by certain men 
against whom it enters its earnest protest. Like 
the tyrant Procrustes, some classes of religionists 
measure all men by themselves, and insist that an 
inch of divergence from their own views must 
entail upon us present and eternal severance from 
those whom they delight to speak of as the peculiar 
people, who through much tribulation must enter 
the kingdom of heaven. Thus much by way of 
caution ; we now proceed. 

The style of our last chapter scarcely allowed us 
to ask the question, Whence this happiness? or if 
it suggested itself, we were too much in haste to 

8* 



178 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

express our gladness to reply to the inquiry. We 
will now, however, sit down coolly and calmly to 
review the causes of that exceeding great joy ; and, 
if possible, to discover God's design in affording us 
such a season of refreshing. Those who are now 
mourning the loss of the peaceful hours, sweet still 
to their memory, may perhaps be cheered by the 
Ebenezers then erected, and by them may be guided 
again to the Delectable Mountains. Great Light 
of the soul, illuminate us each while meditating on 
thy former mercies ! 

I. We shall discuss the causes of the happiness 
which usually attends a sense of pardon. The 
study of experience is one far more calculated to 
excite our admiration of the wisdom, love, aud 
power of God than the most profound researches 
which contemplate only the wonders of nature and 
art. It is to be regretted that master-minds have 
not arisen who could reduce a science so eminently 
practical and useful into some kind of order, and 
render it as rich in its literature as the science of 
medicine or the study of mind. An exceedingly 
valuable volume might be written as a book of 
spiritual family medicine for the people of God, 
describing each of the diseases to which the saint 
is subject, with its cause, symptoms, and cure ; and 
enumerating the stages of the growth of the healthy 
believer. Such a compilation would be exceed- 



JOY AT CONVERSION". 179 

ingly interesting, and its value could scarcely be 
estimated. In the absence of such a guide, let us 
continue our musings by the help of such little ex- 
perience as we may have acquired. 

1. Among the many things which contribute to 
the ravishing sweetness of our first spiritual joy, 
we must mention the case wherein it found us. We 
were condemned by God and by our conscience, 
and harassed by fears of the immediate execution 
of the wrath of God upon us. We were exercised, 
both day and night, by sorrows for the past and 
forebodings of the future ; impending destruction 
prevented sleep, and the sense of guilt made life a 
burden. " When," says one, " the nsual labours 
of the day required that I should sleep, and my 
body, toiled and wasted with the disquiet of my 
mind, made me heavy, and urged it more, yet I 
was afraid to close my eyes lest I should awaken in 
hell ; and durst not let myself sleep till I was by a 
weary body beguiled into it, lest I should drop into 
the pit before I was aware. Was it any wonder 
then that the news of pardon and forgiveness was 
sweet to one in such a case — whereby I was made 
to lie down in safety, and take quiet rest, while 
there was none to make me afraid ? 6 For so He 
giveth his beloved sleep.' " * It is but natural that 
rest should be exceeding sweet after such a period 

* Halyburton. 



180 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUE. 

of disquietude. We expect that the sailor will ex- 
hibit his joy in no ordinary manner when, at last, 
after a weary and tempestuous voyage, he puts his 
foot upon his native shore. We did not wonder 
when we heard of festivities in the islands of the 
West among the slaves who were declared free for 
ever. We do not marvel at the shouts of soldiers 
who have escaped the hundred hands of death in 
the day of battle. Shall we then make it a matter 
of surprise when we behold justified men exulting 
in their liberty in Jesus, and their escape from fear- 
ful perdition ? We think it but in the ordinary 
course of things that when, like the Psalmist, we 
have received answers to our prayers, we should 
also sing like him, il Come and hear, all ye that fear 
God, and I will declare what he hath done for my 
soul. I cried unto him with my mouth, and he 
was extolled with my tongue. I will go into thy 
house with burnt-offerings : I will pay thee my 
vow x s, which my lips have uttered, and my mouth 
hath spoken when I was in trouble. Thou hast 
turned for me my mourning into dancing : thou 
hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with 
gladness, to the end that my glory may sing praise 
to thee, and not be silent. O Lord my God, I 
will give thanks unto thee for ever." Men put 
dark colours into the picture to make the lights 
more apparent ; and God useth our black griefs to 
heighten the brightness of his mercies. The weep- 



JOY AT CONVERSION. 181 

ing of penitence is the sowing of jewels of joy. 
The poet* sang in another sense that which we 
may well quote here — 

" And precious their tears as that rain from the sky,f 
WhHi turns into pearls as it falls in the sea." 

Spiritual sorrow is the architect of the temple of 
praise ; or at least, like Hiram, it floateth on its 
seas the cedars for the pillars of the beautiful 
house. To appreciate mercies we must feel miser- 
ies ; to value deliverance we must have trembled 
at the approach of destruction. Our broken chains 
make line instruments of music, and our feet just 
freed from fetters move right swiftly, dancing to 
the song : we must be glad when our bondage is 
yet so fresh in our memory. Israel sang loud 
enough when, in the sea of Egypt, her oppressors 
were drowned, because she knew too well from 
what a thraldom she was rescued. Shushan was 
glad, and rest was in the city, when the Jews had 
clean escaped from the wiles of Haman. ISTo Pu- 
rim was ever kept more joyously than that first 
one when the gallows were still standing, and the 
sons of the evil counsellor yet unburied. We may 
mourn through much of the long pilgrimage to 
heaven, but the first day is dedicated to feasting, 

* Moore. 

\ " The Nisan, or drops of spring-rain which the Easterns be* 
lieve to produce pearls if they fall into shells." — Richardson. 



182 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

because yesterday was spent in bondage. "Were we 
always mindful of the place from whence we came 
out, perhaps we should be always rejoicing. 

2. There is given unto us at this period a pecu- 
liar outpouring of grace not always enjoyed in after 
days. The heart is broken — it needs soft lini- 
ments wherewith it may be bound ; it hath been 
wounded by the robbers, and left half dead upon 
the road — it is meet that the good physician should 
pour in oil and wines ; it is faint — it needs a cor- 
dial ; it is weak — it is therefore carried in the bo- 
som of love. He who tempers the wind to the 
shorn lamb breathes gently on the new-born child 
of grace. He gives it milk — the ready prepared 
nutriment of heaven ; he lays it in the soft cradle 
of conscious security, and sings to it sweet notes of 
tender love. The young plant receives double 
attention from the careful gardener ; so do the 
young plants of grace receive a double portion of 
sunlight by day, and of the dew by night. 

The light wherein for the first time we discover 
Christ is usually clear and sparkling, bringing with 
it a warming force and reviving influence to which 
we have been strangers before. Never is it more 
truly sweet to see the light, or a more pleasant 
thing to the eyes to behold the sun, than when he 
shines with mild and benignant rays upon our first 
love. Grace then is grace indeed ; for then it 
effectually operates on us, moving us to hearty 



JOT AT CONVERSION. 183 

affection and burning zeal, while it absorbs tlie pas- 
sions in one object, wrapping us up in itself. So 
rich are the manifestations of Jesus to our souls at 
that hour, that in after life we look back to that 
time as " the days of our espousals ;" so ardent are 
we then in love to our Lord, that in succeeding 
years we are often compelled to ask for the same 
grace, desiring only that it may be with us as in 
months past. 

Though our head 1 shall be anointed with fresh 
oil every day of our life, yet on the first coronation 
morning the fullest horn is emptied upon us. A 
man may have such a clear and glorious revelation 
of Christ to his soul, and such a sense of his union 
with Jesus on that beginning of days, that he may 
not have the like all his life after. " The fatted 
calf is not every day slain ; the robe of kings is not 
every day put on ; every day must not be a festival 
day or a marriage day ; the wife is not every day 
in the bosom ; the child is not every day in the 
arms ; the friend is not every day at the table ; nor 
the soul every day under the manifestations of 
Divine love."* Jacob only once saw the angels 
ascending and descending ; Samuel did not hear 
from God every night. We do not read that the 
Lord appeared to Solomon save that once in vision. 
Paul was not for ever in the third heaven, nor was 

* Brooks, 



184: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 



John in the Spirit every Lord's-day. Grace is 
all times a deep, unfathomable sea, but it is not 
always at flood-tide. 

When we are going to our Jesus he will send 
waggons to fetch us to his own country — he will 
come out to meet us in great pomp, and will intro- 
duce us to the king ; but when we are safely set- 
tled in Goshen he will love us equally, but it may 
be he will not make so great a point of honouring us 
with high days and festivals. Christ will array his 
chosen ones in goodly attire, and bind flowers 
about their brows, on the day of their union to him ; 
but, perhaps, to-morrow he may, for their benefit 
and his glory, " plunge them into the ditch, so that 
their own clothes shall abhor them." It may be 
we have a greater sense and sight of grace at first 
than we do afterwards, and this is the reason of our 
greater joy. 

3. The exceeding value of the things revealed na- 
turally produces a sense of unutterable delight when 
perceived by faith. It is no joy at a fictitious boon 
— but the benefit is real, and in itself of a nature 
calculated to excite wonder and praise. The mer- 
cies received are discovered to be inestimably pre- 
cious, and hence there springs at once emotions of 
joyous gratitude. He would scarce be of a sane 
mind who would not smile upon the receipt of a 
treasure which would free him from heavy liabili- 
ties, and secure him an abundant provision for life. 



at 



JOY AT CONVERSION. 185 

"When the naked are clothed, when the hungry are 
fed, and when beggars are elevated from dunghills 
to thrones, if they exhibit no signs of gladness, they 
give grave cause to suspect an absence of reason. 
And can a sinner receive a royal pardon, a princely 
robe, a promise of a crown, and yet remain un- 
moved ? Can he banish hunger at the Kin^s own 
table, and feel the embraces of his reconciled Mon- 
arch, and restrain his joy ? Can he behold himself 
adopted into the family of God, made joint heir 
with Christ, and an inheritor of the kingdom of 
heaven, and sti 1 behave himself coldly? No! he 
must — he will rejoice, — 

" For should he refuse to sing 
Sure the very stones would speak." 

It is no small thing to receive a succession of mer- 
cies — all priceless, all unmerited, all eternal, and 
all our own. Justification in itself is a "joy worth 
worlds ;" but when its attendants are seen at its 
heels, we can only say with the Queen of Sheba, 
"There is no heart left in me." It is not enough 
that we are washed and clothed, but there is our 
Father's banqueting house open to us — we are 
feasted— we hear music — a fair crown is set upon 
our head, and we are made kings and priests unto 
our God; and, as if all this were little, he gives to 
us himself, and makes himself our Lord, our God. 
Can a mortal become possessor of Christ, of his 



186 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

person, his attributes, his all — and can he then re- 
strain the bliss which must find his heart a vessel 
all too narrow to contain it ? Surely sweetness is 
only sweetness when we discern Him as our ever- 
lasting Friend — ours entirely, ours securely, ours 
>ternally. 

" Known and unknown, human, divine! 
Sweet human hand, and lips, and eye, 
Dear heavenly friend thou canst not die, 
Mine, mine — for ever, ever mine !" * 

Truly, the believer might be excused if at the first 
recognition of the Redeemer as his own, own 
Friend, he should become sick of love, or faint with 
overflowing happiness. Khoda opened not the 
gate for gladness when she heard Peter's voice ; 
who shall wonder if the believing penitent should 
behave like one who is in a dream, and should lay 
himself under the imputation of madness ! Con- 
ceive the rapturous delights of the sailors of Colum- 
bus when they hailed the land, or their beaming 
countenances when they found it to be a goodly 
country, abounding with all wealth ; picture the 
heroic Greeks when from the mountain-tops they saw 
the flood which washed their native shore, and 
shouted — "The sea! the sea!" and you may then 
look on another scene without wonder — a company 
of pardoned sinners, singing with all their heart 

* In Memoriam. 



JOY AT CONVERSION. 187 

and soul and strength the praise of One who 
hath done great things for them, whereof they are 
glad. 

4. At this season the spirit lives nearer to its 
God, and thus it dwells nearer heaven. The thing's 
of the world have less power to charm us when we 
have but lately proved their vanity ; the flesh hath 
scarcely ceased to smart with the pain caused by 
the burnings of sin, and we are the more afraid of 
the fire; we have just escaped the paw of the lion 
and the jaw of the bear, and, having the fear of 
these before our eyes, we walk very near to the 
Shepherd. Bear witness, ye saints of God, to the 
holy dew of your youth, for which, alas ! you now 
mourn. Can ye not remember how ye walked 
with God, how calm was your frame, how heavenly 
your spirit ! Ye never saw the face of man when 
ye left your chambers till ye had seen the face of 
God ; nor did ye shut your eyes in slumber on 
your beds till ye had first commended your spirit 
to your Father in heaven. How artless was your 
simplicity ! how fervid your prayerfulness ! how 
watchful your daily behaviour ! What a marvel- 
lous tenderness of conscience characterised you ! — 
you trembled to put one foot before the other, lest 
you should offend your God ; you avoided the very 
appearance of evil ; you were moved by the faint- 
est whispers of duty ; and all the while what a 
quiet state of repose your soul did swim in, and how 



188 



THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 



pleasantly did you commune with heaven ! Grace 
had planted an Eden around you, where you 
walked with Jehovah amid the trees of the garden. 
You were like Daniel by the river Ulai — the man's 
hand was on your shoulder, and his voice called 
you, " Man, greatly beloved." You drank out of 
your Master's cup, and fed out of his hand, like the 
poor man's ewe lamb in Nathan's parable. Your 
eyes were up unto Him, as the eyes of handmaidens 
to their mistresses ; nor could you afford the vain, 
harlot world so much as an instant's gaze. In the 
religious shows of old times they were wont to re- 
present Meditation as a fair maiden, with her eyes 
fixed upon a book which she was intently studying ; 
around her they placed young boys, dressed as 
fairies, demons, or harlequins, who, with their 
dancing, tricks, jokes, or frightful bowlings, sought 
to divert her from her reading ; but she, nothing 
moved, still continued wholly occupied therewith : 
now such were we at the young spring-time of our 
piety, when we were first consecrated to the Lamb. 
We were wholly engrossed with Jesus, and noihing 
could draw us from him. His name was the sum 
of all music ; his person the perfection of all beauty ; 
his character the epitome of all virtue ; himself the 
total sum of the riches, the glory, the love of an 
entire universe. " One sweet draught, one drop of 
the wine of consolation from the hand of Jesus, had 
made our stomachs loathe the brown bread and tlv& 






JOT AT CONVERSION. 189 

sour drink of this miserable life.''" * We were 
wholly lost in. admiring him, and could only ask, 
" Who knoweth how far it is to the bottom of our 
Christ's fulness ? who ever weighed Christ in 
scales?" or, "who hath seen the heights, and depth?, 
and lengths, and breadths of his surpassing love V 
Here is one grand secret of our greater flight of 
joy at that time — we had then more wing than now, 
for we had more communion with God. We were 
living on high, while men lay grovelling below ; 
we were above the storms and tempests then, for 
we had entered into the secret place of the taber- 
nacles of the Most High. We bathed our brow in 
the sunlight of an unclouded sky, standing on an 
eminence, up whose lofty sides the clouds knew not 
how to climb. Did we live nearer to our Lord 
now, we show Id beyond a doubt enjoy far more of 
the cream of life, and know less of its wormwood. 
We cannot expect to have the same enjoyment 
unless we be occupied in the same employment. 
He who goes away from the lire should not ask 
many times why he does not feel the same heat. 
The young convert is in a holy frame — he is most 
sure to be in a happy one. Distance from God is 
the source of the major part of our doubts, fears, 
and anxieties ; live nearer to him, and we shall be 
all the further from the world, the flesh, and the 

* Rutherford. 



190 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 



em. 
ove 



devil, and so we shall be less molested by them. 
We cannot make the sun shine, but we can remove 
from that which may cast a shadow on us. Re- 
move then thy sins, O weak believer, and thou 
mayest hope to see Him yet again ! 

5. Immediately after conversion we are emi- 
nently careful to use all the means of grace, and 
therefore we derive more comfort from them than 
in after years, when we are more negligent of them. 
The young convert is to be seen at every, prayer 
meeting, early or late ; every religious service, 
even though it be at a considerable distance, finds 
him as an attendant ; the Bible is seldom closed, 
and the season for private devotion is never 
neglected. In after days any excuse will enable us 
to be absent from Divine service with an easy 
conscience ; but then it would have been a high 
crime and misdemeanour to have been absent at 
any available opportunity. Hence the soul, feed- 
ing much on heavenly food, waxeth fat, and 
knoweth nothing of the sorrows of the hungry one 
who neglects the royal table. The young footman 
on the heavenly race exerts all his strength to win 
the race, and his progress is thus far greater at first 
than afterwards, when his breath a little fails him, 
or the natural slothfulness of the flesh induces him 
to slacken his pace. Would to God we could 
maintain the speed of our youth ! we should then 
retain its comforts. We have met with some few 






JOY AT CONVERSION. 191 

of the eminently holy who have enjoyed a con- 
tinual feast ever since the day of their espousals ; 
but these were men who were constantly fervent in 
spirit, serving their Lord with a diligent heart. 
Why should it not be so with many more of us ? 
John Bunyan hath well written, "You that are 
old professors, take you heed that the young strip- 
lings of Jesus, that began to strip but the other day, 
do not outrun you, so as to have that Scripture ful- 
filled on you, ' The last shall be first, and the first 
last,' which will be a shame to you and a credit to 
them/"* Oh ! that we were as obedient now as we 
were then to the voice of the Word from heaven, 
then would that voice be more sweet to our ears, 
and the face of heaven would not be so full of 
frowns. " The soul of the diligent shall be made 
fat," is true in spiritual matters equally with tem- 
poral. " Give diligence to make your calling and 
election sure , for if ye do these things, ye shall 
never fall, for so an entrance shall be administered 
to you abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of 
our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." He that 
would be rich must still continue his heed to his 
flocks and his herds. It is not one venture which 
maketh the soul rich ; it Is continued perseverance 
in the business of salvation. Kone but lively, 
active Christians can expect to feel those ravishing 

* Heavenly Footman. 



192 THE SAINT AND HIS SAYIOUK. 

joys, sweet comforts, and blessed delights which 
follow at the heels of a healthy soul. Stagnant 
water never sparkles in the sun — it is the flowing 
bruok which shines like a vein of silver: set thy 
grace at work, and thy joys shall marvellously 
increase. If our bucket be empty, we had better 
ask ourselves whether it might not be full again 
were it sent down into the well. Truly, a neglect 
of means robs us of much consolation. 

6. Novelty no doubt had some hand in the sin- 
gular feelings of that joyous season. As an emi- 
nent saint says, "They were new things, where- 
withal I was utterly unacquainted before, and this 
made them the more affecting." We have all felt 
the great exciting power of novelty in everyday- 
life, and the same influence exerts itself upon the 
inner life of the soul. At first, pardon, adoption, 
acceptance, and the kindred blessings, are new 
things, and, besides their own value, have the 
brightness of newly-minded mercies to recommend 
them to our notice. Prayer, praise, meditation, 
and hearing are fresh exercises ; and, like a horse 
just brought to his labour, we are in haste to be 
engaged in them. " In the morning of life, before 
its wearisome journey, the youthful soul doth ex- 
pand in the simple luxury of being — it hath not 
contracted its wishes nor set a limit to its hopes." 
The morning sun is shining on the yet glistening 
hedgerows, and the dewdrops are all pearls ; the 



JOY AT CONVERSION. 193 

smoke of earth hath not yet darkened the skies, 
and they are one pure firmament of azure. There 
is more than a little of the Athenian in every man ; 
there is not one of us who is not charmed by some- 
thing which has but lately come to the light of 
observation. True, we shall find the glories of the 
cross as marvellous in after years as they are now, 
but now they are so startling to us that we cannot 
but te^l astonishment and wonder. As he who after 
a life of blindness at the first sight of the stars would 
naturally lift up his hands in amazement, so doth 
the man from whose spiritual eye the film hath 
been removed, exult in his first vision of the hea- 
venly gifts of God. Never is the rose more lovely 
than in its bud ; so grace is never more graceful 
than in its beginnings. The young lambs frisk in 
the fields — they will assume a steadier gait when 
they become " the sheep of the pasture;" but till 
then let them show their joy, for it is the necessary 
consequence of their new-created being. 

7. We are inclined to believe that the most com- 
mon cause is the fact that, at first conversion, the 
soul relies more simply upon Christ, and looks more 
attentively at him than it does in after days, when 
evidences, good works, and graces, become more 
an object of regard than the person of Jesus. When 
the glorious Redeemer finds us lost and ruined in 
the fall — when he makes us deeply conscious of 
that ruin — then we take him, and him alone, for 

9 



194 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

our treasure ; but in future years he gives to us 
sundry rings, jewels, and ornaments, as love-tokens 
— and we most foolishly set our eyes more upon 
these than upon the Giver, and consequently lose 
much of the cheering effect of a constant view of 
the Saviour. At the first time of love we are too 
weak to venture on our own feet, but cling with 
both our arms around the neck of Jesus ; there we 
find an easy carriage, which we lose when our 
overweening pride constrains him to set us on the 
ground to run alone. He who hath a speck in the 
eye of his faith, obscuring his vision of the Saviour, 
will find much pain resulting therefrom. That 
which removes us from the simplicity of our faith 
in Christ, although it be in itself most excellent, yet 
to us becomes a curse. Many of us might be wil- 
ling to renounce all our experience, our graces, and 
our evidences, if we might but return to the former 
childlike faith of our spiritual infancy. To lie 
quietly afloat on the stream of free grace is the 
very glory of existence, the perfection of earthly 
happiness. 

No seat is so pleasant as that which is beneath 
the shadow of Jesus. We may fetch our spices 
from afar, but they shall yield no such fragrance as 
that which is shed from the robes of the all-glorious 
Emmanuel, of whom it is written, " All thy gar- 
ments smell of myrrh, and aloes, and cassia." 
Whatsoever spiritual joy we have which springs 



JOY AT CONVERSION. 195 

not from Christ as the Fountain, we shall find it 
sooner or later bitter to our taste. The young con- 
vert is happy because he drinks only from Jesus, 
and is yet too full of infirmity to attempt the hew- 
ing of a cistern for himself. 

If we be unfaithful to Christ, we must not ex- 
pect many of his smiles. It matters little what is 
the object of our delight, be it never so lovely, if 
it become a rival of Jesus, he is grieved thereby, 
and makes us mourn his absence. " When we 
make creatures, or creature-comforts, or anything 
whatever but what we receive by the Spirit of 
Christ, to be our joy and our delight, we are false 
to Christ."* He gave himself wholly for us, and 
he thinks it ill that will not give him sole posses- 
sion of our heart. Jesus, like his Father, is a jea- 
lous God — he will not brook a rival. lie will have 
us rejoice only in His love, hearken only to His 
voice, and keep our eyes constantly on him, and 
him only. Beyond a doubt, were we in constant 
fellowship with our loving Redeemer, we might 
always retain a measure, if not the entire fulness, 
of our early joy ; and did we labour to improve in 
our acquaintance with him, and our devotion to 
him, our joy might possibly increase to an indefi- 
nite degree, until our tabernacle on earth would be 
like a house built upon the wall of heaven, or at 

* Owen. 



196 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

least in the suburbs of the city of God. It is no 
wonder that so many lose their first joy when we 
remember how many lose their first love. " It may 
be," saith a holy Puritan to the doubting soul, " it 
may be, if thou hadst minded and endeavoured 
more after community with God and conformity to 
God, thou mightest at this time have looked up- 
ward, and seen God in Christ smiling upon thee, 
and have looked inward into thy soul, and seen 
the Spirit of grace witnessing to thy spirit that 
thou wert a son, an heir, an heir of God, and a 
joint-heir with Christ. But thou hast minded more 
thine own comfort than Christ's honour; thou hast 
minded the blossoms and the fruit more than 
Christ, the Root ; thou hast minded the springs of 
comfort more than Christ, the Fountain of life ; 
thou hast minded the beams of the sun more than 
the Sun of righteousness : and, therefore, it is a 
righteous thing with God to leave thee to walk in 
a valley of darkness, to hide his face from thee, 
and to seem to be as an enemy to thee." Let us 
labour then to keep our eye single, so shall our 
whole body be full of light — light cheering and de- 
lightful beyond what we can even dream. It is 
quite impossible to define the limit of the happi- 
ness mortals may experience in the condescending 
company of a gracious Saviour ; let us each seek 
to soar into the loftiest air, that we may prove what 
is the joy unspeakable and full of glory. Certain 



JOY AT CONVERSION. 197 

it is that faith is the golden pipe which conducts 
the living waters of the mount of God to the pil- 
grim sons of Jehovah. Let us keep the course un- 
obstructed, and we may hope to drink deep 
draughts of true delight. 

It cannot be supposed that we have enumerated 
more than a small proportion of the causes of this 
spiritual phenomenon ; the rest lie beyond the 
writer's limited experience, or do not at this mo- 
ment suggest themselves. These, perhaps, are the 
most frequent, and consequently the most appa- 
rent. 

Should we have a reader who has lost his first 
love, it may be he will, by these suggestions, be 
able to detect the secret robber who has stolen his 
substance. If so, we beseech him, as he loves his 
own soul, to be in earnest to remedy the evil by 
driving out the insidious enemy. O spirit of God, 
restore unto us each "the years which the locust 
has eaten !" 

II. We shall now endeavour to discover the 
designs of our heavenly Father in thus favouring 
us on that happy day of conversion. These are 
many, and most of them unknown: we must, 
therefore, be content to behold some of them ; 
and may the contemplation excite wonder, grati- 
tude, and love. 

1 . Doubtless our Lord would have us ever remem~ 



198 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

her that day, and regard it with an especial interest ; 
therefore did he crown it with loving kindness and 
tender mercies. It was a birth-day — he distin- 
guished it with festivities ; it was a marriage-day 
— he celebrated it with music ; it was a resurrec- 
tion — he did attend it with joyful sound of trum- 
pet. He illuminated that page of our biography 
that we might refer to it with ease. It was a high 
day, and he made it high in our esteem by the 
marvellous grace which he displayed towards us. 
At the signing of Magna Charta, if on do other 
occasion, the king and his courtiers would array 
themselves in all their dazzling robes and glitter- 
ing jewels ; surely it is not unbecoming even in the 
majesty of heaven to reveal something of its glo- 
ries when making peace with rebels. The black 
cap is but the fitting accompaniment of the sen- 
tence of death ; wiry should it be thought unseemly 
that garments of praise should be displayed on the 
day of acquittal ? In heaven there is held a solemn 
festival when heirs of glpry are begotten, and the 
heart of Jesus rejoices over the recovery of his lost 
sheep : we need not wonder that the cause of such 
sublime delights is himself made a sharer in them. 
Men strike medals to commemorate great national 
successes ; should it be considered a strange thing 
that Jesus giveth tokens to his people in the day 
of their salvation ? We are but too little mindful of 
the benefits of the Lord ; he doth therefore mark 



JOY AT CONVERSION. 199 

this day of the calendar in golden letters, that we 
may be compelled to remembrance. 

It can never happen to us again : we are regen 
erated for all — saved in a moment from sin and its 
consequences ; it is meet that we should make 
merry and be glad, for the dead are alive, and the 
lost are found. The peace has just now been wel- 
comed with illuminations and with national festivi- 
ties; shall the eternal peace between heaven and 
the soul be unattended with rejoicings ? The 
greater the occasion, the more proper is its remem- 
brance — and what can be a happier event to us 
than our salvation ? therefore let it be had in per- 
petual remembrance, and let " all kinds of music " 
unite to sound its praise.. Some among us honour 
the anniversary of the building of the house of the 
Lord ; but far more do we delight in the returning 
day which saw us placed as living stones in the tem- 
ple of Jesus. Bless the Lord, O our souls, who hath 
forgiven all our iniquities and healed all our diseases ! 

2. Our wise and loving Lord graciously designed 
to give us something which might in all after trials 
be a sweet starving to the soul when a present sense 
of his love should be absent. How often have we 
been enabled to recover confidence in the day of 
' our infirmity, by remembering " the years of the 
right hand of the Most High !" * David, when his 

* Ps. Ixxvii. 10. 



200 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

soul refused to be comforted, found it good " to Con- 
sider the days of old," and to rehearse his former 
" song in the night." He declares that his "spirit 
made diligent search," — meaning that he turned 
over the register and records of God's former mer- 
cies, in order that some record, still extant, might 
help him in his need. When the heir of heaven is 
in doubt as to his inheritance among them that are 
sanctified, it affords no small degree of assurance 
to be able to turn to the birth-day register, and 
read " of Zion it is said this man was born there ;" 
this decides the case at once in our favour. In 
times of contention, when we "see not our signs," 
we shall find it eminently comfortable to look back 
to the consecrated hour which witnessed our ac- 
ceptance in the beloved, for so shall we again be 
able to assure ourselves of our election by a remem- 
brance of our calling. 

We at times should have had no heart for song 
if we had not found our harp already tuned, having 
not yet become unstrung since the hour of high 
festivity in the halls of bounty. Some despise 
Ebenezers, and talk slightingly of the hope which 
issues from them ; but persons can scarcely have- 
had more than a superficial experience, or they 
would have learned far better. 

The future would lie for ever in obscurity if we 
did not borrow a lamp from the hand of the past 
to cheer the gloom, and show where a sure foot- 



JOY AT CONVERSION. 201 

hold is to be found. This, then, is God's design in 
lighting up the hill Mizar of our first conversion, 
that it may cast a light, like Malvern's watch-fire, 
for many a mile beyond. 

A pleasant anecdote is told of Mr. Kidd, once 
minister of Queensferry, near Edinburgh. He was 
one day very much depressed and discouraged, for 
want of that comfort which is produced by simple 
faith in Jesus. He therefore sent a note to Mr. 

L , the minister of Culross, requesting a visit 

from him, that a brother's help might lift him out 
of his Slough of Despond. When the servant 

arrived at Culross, Mr. L told him that he was 

too busy to wait upon his master,* but he was 
charged to deliver these words to him — " Remem- 
ber Torwood!" The man, like Jonathan's lad, 
knew nothing of the matter, but Mr. Kidd under- 
stood it well, for at Torwood he had received mani- 
festations of Jesus. Upon being reminded thereof, 
his darkness vanished, and he joyfully cried out, 
" Yes, Lord ! I will remember Thee, from the hill 
Mizar, and from the Hermonites !" It may be that 
in periods of gloom and distraction, that place, 
that spot of ground where Jesus met with us for the 
first time, will prove a very Bethel to our spirits. 
Here is wisdom in this day of joy, let him that 
knoweth it be thankful. 

3. We had suffered so much in the time of con- 
viction that we needed much tenderness, and 

9* 



202 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

therefore He gave it to us. There was no small 
fear lest we should be swallowed up of sorrow, and 
die under the pangs and throes of the new birth, 
therefore did he tend us with the carefulness of a 
mother, and watch over us with abundant compas- 
sions. Like a sailor snatched from the deep, we 
were ready to perish, and should have expired in 
our deliverer's arms had he not used the most com- 
passionate arts to restore us to life. We were sore 
broken and wounded, therefore did he place us in 
an infirmary on the hills of Delight, where he 
made all our bed in our sickness, poured out his 
best wine with his own hand, fed us with royal 
dainties, and all the while did watch us, lest any 
should disturb our rest. "When we become some- 
what stronger, he leaves us to share with our fel- 
low-soldiers in the camp, whose rations are not 
quite so full of marrow and fatness. 

The wise shepherds said to the pilgrim band, 
" Come in, Mr. Feeblemind ; come in, Mr. Ready- 
to-halt; come in, Mr. Despondency and Mrs. Much- 
afraid, his daughter." These were called by name 
because of their weakness, while the stronger sort 
were left to their own liberty. So also at their 
feast they made the viands suitable to the condi- 
tion of the tender ones, " of things easy of diges- 
tion, and that were pleasant to the palate, and 
nourishing." Many of the promises are made spe- 
cially for the feeble among the Lord's flock, to be 



JOY AT CONVERSION. 203 

heavenly ambulances for the wounded. When 
grace is young, and as yet but a spark, the kind 
hand of the Lord preserves it from the rough wind, 
and his own warm breath fans it to a flame. He 
doth not deliver the soul of his turtle-dove into the 
hand of its enemies, but for a while houseth it in 
the rock, or carrieth it in his hand. The tender 
plant of grace is covered all the day long, watered 
every moment, protected from the frost, and fos- 
tered in, the warm air of communion and endear- 
ing fellowship. It should be accepted as a conclu- 
sive proof of the wisdom and prudence of our 
gracious God, that he sendeth the soft and refresh- 
ing showers upon the new-mown grass, and in that 
blessed manner effaces all the ill effects of the 
severe discipline of conviction. " If," says Austin, 
" one drop of the joy of the Holy Ghost should fall 
into hell, it would swallow up all the torments of 
hell ;" assuredly it soon removes all the sadness 
produced by pains of repentance. 

4. The journey before us was exceeding long, 
therefore did he refresh us before he sent us on our 
way. Elijah was made to eat once and again be- 
fore his forty days of travelling — so must the spirit 
be refreshed before it sets out on its long pilgrim- 
age. Jesus, in this hour of heaven, drops such 
tokens of love into the hands of his children that 
in after days they may recruit their strength by 
looking upon the heavenly earnest. The smiles, 



204 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

embraces, and assurances of that hour put spirit 
and mettle into the Christian warrior, enabling him 
to bid defiance to the stoutest enemies, and brave 
the greatest dangers. Before fighting, feasting. 
The angels met Jacob at Mahanaim before he heard 
of Esau's threatening approach. Paul was caught 
up into the third heaven before he was buffeted by 
the messenger of Satan. There should be cheering 
words at the buckling on of the harness, for they 
will all be wanted by-and-by. God filleth the be- 
liever's bottle full when he starteth, for he hath a 
wide desert to traverse, a thirsty heart to carry, 
and few wells on the road. Although grace, like 
manna, must descend day by day — yet comforts, 
like the quails, come only at seasons, and we must 
gather enough at those times to last us many days. 
It is certain that the delights of the past afford the 
readiest means for exciting pleasure in the present, 
we carry from the fires of yesterday burning coals 
for the kindling of to-day. The ship hath more 
provisions on board when it starts upon its voyage 
than it is likely to have in a few weeks, and it then 
showeth all its flags and streamers which must soon 
be furled, and the canvas will be spread, which, 
though more useful, is not so glorious for show. 
The remembrance of the happy shore, and the gai- 
ety of the departure, will support the spirit of the 
mariners when storms assail them, and the comforts 
then placed on board will be found none too many 



JOY AT CONVERSION. 205 

for the greatness of their toil upon the wide and 
stormy sea. Gurnal says that past experiences are 
like cold dishes reserved at a feast, from which the 
child of God can make a hearty meal when there 
is nothing else on the table ; and when we consider 
how long a time has sometimes elapsed between 
one banquet and another, it is doubtless intended 
that we should set aside an abundant provision 
from the well-spread table which furnishes the 
feast of the penitent's reception. Take thy first 
joys, O little faith, and drink full draughts of cor- 
dial from them. 

5. By the joy of his right hand, He put to flight 
our hard thoughts of him. Deceived by the out- 
ward appearance, w r e thought his chastenings un- 
kind ; we attributed his wounds to cruelty and en- 
mity ; nor could our mistake be corrected until He 
displayed the richness of his love in the most compas- 
sionate way — by restoring our soul and renewing 
our strength. Oh ! what a death-blow was his love 
to all. our unkind thoughts of him ; how were we 
ashamed to look at the dear friend whom we had 
so basely slandered ! "We saw it all then, clear as 
noonday, and wept at the recollection of our pre- 
mature judgment and rash surmises. The Lord 
soon changed our thoughts concerning his dealings. 
We said, " It is enough ; these things are not 
against me : surely goodness and mercy shall fol- 
low me all the days of my life." 



206 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

We might to this hour have been mindful of our 
agonies, if the succeeding joy had not obliterated 
all ; so that, like the woman after her deliverance, 
" we remember no more the travail " for joy at the 
result. If we had only felt the sore woundings of 
his arm, and had never had a look at his sweet 
loving face, we might have written hard things 
against God as well as against ourselves ; but now 
that he .visiteth us in mercy, we gladly confess, 
"Thou hast dealt well with thy servant, O Lord, 
according unto thy word." When reaping the 
fruit of that rough sowing, we repent most truly of 
the impatience and unbelief which dared to lie 
against the Lord, and accuse him of unkindness. 
We retracted every word, and would have washed 
those feet with tears which we had bespattered 
with our vile suspicions, and kissed away every 
stain which our unbelief had put upon his pure, un- 
mingled love. 

6. This cheering manifestation of mercy made 
us full of love to the good ways of holiness, which 
we then found to be exceedingly pleasant. Hence- 
forth we believe and know the king's highway to 
be a path of peace ; and when at any time we lose 
the happiness once enjoyed, we look back to the 
time of love, and remembering how sweet was the 
service of Jesus, we march forward with renewed 
vigour. We had heard the vile calumny that reli- 
gion was a thing of misery and sadness, and that 



JOY AT CONVERSION. 207 

its followers were the companions of owls and 
lovers of lamentation ; but the jubilant nature of 
our reception into the house of the saints laid bare 
the slander, and discovered the reverse of our 
gloomy apprehensions. We thought that glens, 
ravines, wildernesses, clouds, tempests, lions, dra- 
gons, and all kind of horrid things, were the sum- 
total of Christian experience ; but instead thereof 
we were " led forth with peace ;" where we feared 
a wilderness we found a Sharon, and the oil of joy 
was given us instead of the expected mourning. 

"We labour, now to exhibit cheerfulness, since we 
firmly believe that this recommends the way to the 
wavering, and is the true method of honouring 
the God of all consolation. " This world is a howl- 
ing wilderness to those alone who go howling 
through it ;" but— 

" The men of grace have found 
Glory begun below ; 
Celestial fruits, on earthly ground, 
From faith and hope may grow." 

He who affirms that godliness is gloominess 
knoweth not what he saith. The Lord desireth to 
teach us, at the very beginning of our Christian 
career, that he would have us be happy, happy 
only in himself. He makes us glad when we are 
but beginners, and little in Israel, that we may see 
that we can be made blessed by simple faith, with- 



208 THE, SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

out any other assistance. " Christians might avoid 
much trouble," says Dr. Payson, " if they would 
only believe what they profess — that God is able 
to make them happy without anything else. They 
imagine, if such a dear friend were to die, or such 
and such blessings to be removed, they should be 
miserable ; whereas, God can make them a thou- 
sand times happier without them. To mention my 
own case — God has been depriving me of one bles- 
sing after another ; but as every one has been re- 
moved, he has come in and filled up its place ; and 
now, when I am a cripple, and not able to move, I 
am happier than ever I was in my life before, or 
ever expected to be ; and if I had believed this 
twenty years ago, I might have been spared much 
anxiety." This is the very thing our very gracious 
Jesus would teach us, if we were not so slow to 
learn ; for, in the very first dawning of life, when 
graces and virtues are not yet developed, he makes 
himself so precious that we may know that he 
alone is the fountain of delights, and the very soul 
of rejoicing. He puts into us a constant love to his 
ways, by that # delightful advent which he gives us 
at the very first step we take therein. It is of no 
use for the infidel to tell us our course will not end 
in bliss — it began with it, and w T e are compelled to 
believe that, if the same Jesus be Alpha and 
Omega too, the end must be eternal happiness. 
7. We may also regard these great delights as 



JOY AT CONVERSION. 209 

earnests of the future Miss of the righteous. A 
pledge assures the wavering, and confirms the 
weak ; wisdom, therefore, bestows the earnest upon 
the young believer that he may be rendered confi- 
dent of ultimate felicity. During our progress to 
the celestial cit} T , our Lord is pleased to refresh our 
souls with sundry " drops of heaven,'' as the fore- 
taste of that glorious rest which remains for his 
people, and this early joy is the first of a series of 
antepasts of heaven which we hope to receive 
while sojourning below. It is, so to speak, the 
enlisting money wherewith the young recruit is 
pledged to the king's service, and assured of his 
bounty. 

The Apostle Paul tells us that the holy spirit of 
promise is the earnest of our inheritance. " The 
original word, appa(3cov, seems properly to denote 
the first part of the price that is paid in any con- 
tract as an earnest and security of the remainder, 
and which therefore is not taken back, but kept till 
the residue is paid to complete the whole sum." * 
Such are the raptures of the newly -pardoned soul 
— tokens which he will keep for ever, as the first 
instalment of an eternal weight of glory, and which 
he may safely retain as a portion of his own inheri- 
tance. These spiritual joys are like the cluster of 
grapes which the spies brought from Eschol — they 

* Chandler. 



210 THE SAINT AND EIS SAVIOUR. 

are sweet in themselves, but they become more 
delightful still when they are regarded as proofs 
that the land of Canaan is fertile, and flowing with 
milk and honey. Thus the rest of the Sabbath is 
described by Stennet as " the antepast of heaven," 
*"id of its true enjoyment he says : — 

" This heavenly calm within the breast 
Is the dear pledge of glorious rest, 
Which for the Church of God remains — 
The end of cares, the end of pains." 

The last of the seers, whom we feel constrained 
to quote in almost every page, makes " Hopeful " 
victorious over the scoffing " Atheist " by the 
simple expression, " What ! no Mount Zion ? Did 
we not see from the Delectable Mountains the gate 
of the city ?" These Sabbath mercies, delectable 
views, and days of espousals, are a witness within 
the believer which all the sneers of man, the malice 
of devils, and the doubts of corrupt nature cannot 
disprove. Such things are designed to be the true 
" internal evidence " of the power of the Gospel. 

The ends and purposes of God which we have 
mentioned are far from despicable, and when we 
remember the marvellously pleasant process by 
which such great effects are produced, w T e would 
desire to ascribe honour to that eternal wisdom 
which can use rich wines as well as bitter medicines 
in the cure of souls. 



JOY AT CONVERSION. 211 

And now, reader, what dost thou say to these 
things ? Hast thou tasted the " thousand sacred 
sweets " which are afforded "by the hill of Zion ? 
Hast thou felt the " heaven begun below " of which 
w T e have treated ? If thou hast not, then allow a 
word of advice which may well be furnished from 
the subject :— u Never believe the falsehood which 
pronounces true religion to he a miserable thing, for 
a more ungrounded slander can never be imagined. 
The godly have their trials as well as the rest of 
the human family, but these are rather the effects 
of sin than of grace. They find this world at times 
a howling wilderness — but then the manna from 
above, and the rock which follows them, combine 
/to prevent their howling as they pass through it, 
and constrain the wilderness and the solitary place 
to be glad for them. Some of them are of a sor- 
rowful countenance — but their gloom is the result 
of temperament rather than of religion, and if they 
had more grace, the wrinkles upon their brows 
might become fewer. 

The Gospel is in itself "glad tidings of great 
joy ; can you suppose that misery is the result of 
that which is essentially joyful? The very pro- 
clamation of it is a theme for exulting song;* how 
much more the reception of it? If the hope of 
reconciliation be a just ground of rejoicing, how 

* Isa. lii. T— 10 



212 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

much more the actual agreement of the soul with 
its God? "We rejoice in God through Jesus 
Christ, by whom we have received the atone- 
ment."* To us there are express precepts given 
to "rejoice in the Lord alway."t And that the 
exhortation might have its full weight, and not he 
accounted hasty, it is solemnly repeated, "and 
again I say, Rejoice." Hence, therefore, we may 
safely conclude that the genuine right temper and 
frame of a healthy Christian mind will be an 
habitual joyfulness, prevailing over all the tempo- 
rary occasions of sorrow which in this life must 
unavoidably beset us. 

No trial can be thought of so heavy as to out- 
weigh our great cause of joy; nor can the kingdom 
of God ever be in its constitution, even when 
attacked by the most furious assaults, anything 
other than " righteousness, and peace, and joy in 
the Holy Ghost." J . " Nor," says Howe, in a letter 
to the bereaved Lady Russell, " is this a theory 
only, or the idea and notion of an excellent temper 
of spirit, which we may contemplate indeed, but 
can never attain to. For we rind it also to have 
been the attainment and usual temper of Christians 
heretofore, that, ; being justified by faith, and hav- 
ing peace with God, they have rejoiced,' in hope 
of the glory of God, unto that degree as even to 

* Bom. v. 1L \ Phil. iv. 4. % 1 Thes - v - 16 - 



JOY AT CONVERSION. 213 

' glory in their tribulations also ;'* and in the con- 
fidence that they should ' be kept by the power of 
God through faith unto salvation,' they have there- 
fore ' greatly rejoiced,' though with some mixture 
of heaviness (whereof there was need) from their 
manifold trials. But that their joy did surmoun 
and prevail over their heaviness is manifest, for 
this is spoken of with much diminution, whereas 
they are said to 'rejoice greatly] and 'with joy 
unspeakable and full of glory.' " f 

If, when the believer is but a feeble thing, " car- 
ried away by every wind," he is, despite his weak- 
ness, able to rise to raptures of joy, who shall dare 
to suppose him unhappy when he has become 
strong in faith and mighty in grace ? If the porch 
of godliness be paved with gold, what must be the 
interior of the palace? If the very hedgerows of 
her garden are laden with fruit, what shall we not 
find on the goodly trees in the centre? The blade 
yieldeth much, shall the ear be empty ? Nay, " the 
ways of the Lord are right," and those who walk 
therein are blessed. Think not otherwise of them, 
but as you wish to share their " last end," think 
well also of the way which leadeth thither. 

May the Lord direct his children, by his Holy 
Spirit, in reviewing this subject by prayer, to give 
all the glory of their mercies to the adorable per- 
son of Jesus. Amen. 

* Rom. v. 1, 3. f 1 Pet. i. 5, 6, 8. 



TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. 



Fkiend, — We Lave been answering questions 
concerning a joy with which thou canst not inter- 
meddle — for thou art, to thine own loss and shame, 
a stranger from the commonwealth of Israel. But 
thou too hast a question or two which it were well 
to ask thyself. Whence that misery of which thou 
art at times the victim ? Why dost thou tremble 
under an arousing sermon ? Why doth the funeral 
knell grate on thine ear? What makes thy knees 
knock together at the sound of thunder? Why 
dost thou quiver at nightfall, though a leaf, all soli- 
tary, was the only thing which stirred within many 
a yard of thee ? Why dost thou feel such alarm 
when pestilence is abroad ? Why so anxious aftei 
a hundred remedies ? Why so fearful if thou art 
but sick an hour ? Why so unwilling to visit the 
grave of thy companion? Answer this, O soul, 
without reserve ! Is it not that thou art afraid to 
die % It is ! — thou knowest it is ! 

214 



JOY AT CONVERSION. 215 

But, O my friend, fear death as much as thou 
wilt, thou canst not escape it. On his pale horse 
he is pursuing thee at no lame pace, but at a rate 
which thou mayst guess of by the wind or the flash- 
ing lightning. Noiseless is the wing of time, dumb 
is the lip of death ; but time is none the less rapid 
for its silence, and death not one whit the more 
uncertain because he trumpets not his coming. 
Remember, while thou art fearing, the messenger 
is hastening to arrest thee. Every moment now 
gliding away is another moment lost, and lost to 
one who little can afford it. Oh ! ere the wax hath 
cooled which is sealing thy death-warrant, list to a 
warning from God, for if the book of thy doom be 
once sealed, it shall never be opened for erasure or 
inscription. Hear Moses and the prophets, and 
then hear the great Jesus speak : — " The soul that 
sinneth it shall die." u He will by no means spare 
the guilty." " Cursed is every one that continueth 
not in all things that are written in the book of the 
law to do them." " Behold the day cometh that 
shall burn as an oven, and all the proud, yea, and 
all that do wickedlt, shall be stubble ; and the 
day that cometh shall burn them up, saith the Lord 
of Hosts, that it shall leave them neither root nor 
branch." Regard then the voice of Jesus, full of 
mercy : — " The Son of Man is come to seek and to 
save that which was lost" 



216 THE SAINT AND HIS SAYIC0R. 

" Sinner, is thy heart at rest? 
Is thy bosom void of fear ? 
Art thou not by guilt oppress' d ? 
Speaks not conscience in thine ear ? 

"Can this world afford thee bliss? 
Can it chase away thy gloom ? 
Flattering, false, and vain it is; 
Tremble at the wo-ldling's doom. 

" Long the Gospel thou hast spurn'd, 
Long delay'd to love thy God, 
Stifled conscience, nor hast turn'd, 
Woo'd though by a Saviour's blood, 

" Think, sinner! on thy end! 
See the judgment-day appear ; 
Thither must thy spirit wend, 
There thy righteous sentence hear. 

"Wretched, ruin'd, helpless soul, 
To a Saviour's blood apply ; 
He alone can make thee whole- 
Fly to Jesus, sinner, fly." * 

* Waterbury. 



VI. . 

COMPLETE Vs CHRIST. 






" Ye are complete in Him." — Col. ii. 10. 

The pardoned sinner for awhile is content with 
the boon of forgiveness, and is too overjoyed with 
a sense of freedom from bondage to know a wish 
Deyond. In a little time, however, he bethinks 
himself of his position, his wants, and his pros- 
pects : what is then his rapture at the discovery 
that the roll of his pardon is also an indenture of 
all wealth, a charter of all privileges, a title-deed 
of all needed blessings ! Having received Christ, 
he hath obtained all things in him. He looketh to 
that cross upon which the dreadful handwriting of 
ordinances hath been nailed; to his unutterable 
surprise he beholds it blossom with mercy, and like 
a tree of life bring forth the twelve manner of 
fruits — yea, all that he requires for life, for death, 
for time, or for eternity. Lo ! at the foot of the 
once accursed tree grow plants for his healing, and 

10 21T 



218 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 



flowers for his delight; from the bleeding feet of 
the Redeemer flows directing love to lead him all 
the desert through — from the pierced side .there 
gushes cleansing water to purge him from the 
power of sin — the nails become a means of secur- 
ing him to righteousness, while above the crown 
hangs visible as the gracious reward of persever- 
ance. All things are in the cross — by this we 
conquer, by this we live, by this we are purified, 
by this we continue firm to the end. "While sitting 
beneath the shadow of our Lord, we think our- 
selves most rich, for angels seem to sing, " Ye are 
complete in him." 

" Complete in Him !" — precious sentence ! 
sweeter than honey to our soul, we would adore 
the Holy Spirit for dictating such glorious words 
to his servant Paul. Oh! may we by grace be 
made to see that they really are ours — for ours 
they are if we answer to the character described in 
the opening verses of the Epistle to the Colossians. 
If we have faith in Christ Jesus, love towards all 
the saints, and a hope laid up in heaven, we may 
grasp this golden sentence as all our own. Header, 
hast thou been able to follow in that which has 
already been described as the " way which leads 
from banishment?" Then thou, mayst take this 
choice sentence to thyself as a portion of thine 
inheritance ; for weak, poor, helpless, unworthy 
though thou be in thyself, in Him, thy Lord, thy 



COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 9A9 

Redeemer, thou art complete in the fullest, broad- 
est, and most varied sense of that mighty word, 
and thou wilt be glad to muse upon the wonders 
of this glorious position. May the great Teacher 
guide ns into this mystery of the perfection of the 
elect in Jesus, and may our meditation be cheer- 
ing and profitable to our spirits! As the words 
are few, let us dwell on them, and endeavor to 
gain the sweets which lie so compactly within this 
little cell. 

Pause over those two little words, " in Him " — 
in Christ ! Here is the doctrine of union and one- 
ness with Jesus — a doctrine of undoubted truth 
and unmingled comfort. The Church is so allied 
with her Lord that she is positively one with him. 
She is the bride, and He the bridegroom ; she is 
the branch, and He the stem ; she the body, and 
He the glorious Head. So also is every individual 
believer united to Christ. As Levi lay in the loins 
of Abraham when Melehisedek met him, so was 
every believer chosen in Christ, and blessed with 
all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in him. 
We have been spared, protected, converted, justi- 
fied, and accepted solely and entirely by virtue of 
our eternal union with Christ. 

Never can the convinced soul obtain peace until, 
like Ruth, she finds rest in the house of her kins- 
man, who becomes her husband — Jesus the Lord. 



220 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOTJK. 

Ah eminent pastor, lately deceased,* said in one 
of his sermons, " Now, I am as sure as I am of my 
own existence that wherever God the Holy Ghost 
awakens the poor sinner by his mighty grace, and 
imparts spiritual life in his heart, nothing will ever 
satisfy that poor sinner but a believing assurance 
of eternal union with Christ. Unless the soul ob- 
tains a sweet and satisfactory consciousness of it in 
the exercise of a living faith, it will never ' enter 
into rest ' this side eternity." 

It is from oneness with Christ before all worlds 
that we receive all our mercies. Faith is the pre- 
cious grace which discerns this eternal union, and 
cements it by another — a vital union ; so that we 
become one, not merely in the eye of God, but in 
our own happy experience — one in aim, one in 
heart, one in holiness, one in communion, and, ulti- 
mately, one in glory. 

This manifest union is not more real and actual 
than the eternal union of which it is the revela- 
tion ; it does not commence the union, nor does its 
obscurity or clearness in the least affect the cer- 
tainty or safety of the immutable oneness subsist- 
ing between Jesus and the believer. It is emi- 
nently desirable that every saint should attain a 
full assurance of his union to Christ, and it is ex- 
ceedingly important that lie should labour to main 

* Rev. Joseph Irons, CamberwelL 






COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 221 

tain a constant sense thereof; for although the 
mercy be the same, yet his comfort from it will 
vary according to his apprehension of it. A land- 
scape is as fair by night as by day, but who can 
perceive its beauties in the dark ? — even so we 
must see, or rather believe, this union to rejoice 
in it. 

No condition out of Paradise can be more 
blessed than that which is produced by a lively 
sense of oneness with Jesus. To know and feel 
that our interests are mutual, our bonds indissolu- 
ble, and our lives united, is indeed to dip our 
morsel in the golden dish of heaven. There is no 
sweeter canticle for mortal lips than the sweet 
song, " My beloved is mine, and I am His :" — 

" E'en like two bank-dividing brooks, 
That wash the pebbles with their wanton streams, 
And, having rang'd and search'd a thousand nooks, 
Meet both at length in silver-breasted Thames, 
Where in a greater current they conjoin ; — 
So I my best beloved's am, so he is mine." 

Verily the stream of life floweth along easily 
enough when it is commingled with him who is our 
life. Walking with our arm upon the shoulder of 
the beloved is not simply safe, but delightful ; and 
living with his life is a noble style of immortality, 
which may be enjoyed on earth. But to be out of 
Christ is misery, weakness, and death — in short, it 



222 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

is the bud, of which the full-blown flower is dam- 
nation. Apart from Jesus we have nothing save 
fearful forebodings and terrible remembrances. 
Beloved, there is no Gospel promise which is ours 
unless we know what it is to be in Him. Out of 
him all is poverty, woe, sorrow, and destruction : 
it is only in him, the ark of his elect, that we can 
hope to enjoy covenant mercies, or rejoice in the 
sure blessings of salvation. Can we now entertain 
a hope that we are really hidden in the rOck ? Do 
we feel that we are a portion of Christ's body, and 
that a real union exists between us ? Then may 
we proceed to unfold and appropriate the privi- 
leges here mentioned. 

Ye are complete in Him. The word " complete " 
does not convey the whole of neTTArjpofievoi. It is 
upon the whole the best word which can be found 
in our language, but its meaning mav be further 
unveiled by the addition of other auxiliary read- 
ings. 

I. Ye ake complete in Him. — Let us consider 
the meaning of the phrase as it thus stands in our 
own authorised version. We are complete. In all 
matters which concern our spiritual welfare, and 
our soul's salvation, we are complete in Christ. 

1. Complete without the aid of Jewish ceremo- 
nies. — These had their uses. They were pictures 
wherewith the law, as a schoolmaster, taught the 
infant Jewish church; but now that faith is 



COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 223 

come, we are no longer under a schoolmaster, for 
in the clear light of Christian knowledge we need 
not the aid of symbols : — 

" Finished are the types and shadows 
Of the cei-emonial law." 

Tho one sacrifice has so atoned for ns that we need 
no other. In Christ we are complete without any 
addition of circumcision, sacrifice, passover, or 
temple service. These are now but beggarly ele- 
ments. They would be incumbrances — for what 
can we need from them when we are complete in 
Christ ? What have we to do with moon or stars, 
now that Christ hath shone forth like the sun in his 
strength ? Let the dim lamps be quenched — they 
would but mock the dawn, and the sunlight would 
deride their unneeded glimmerings. We despise 
not the ceremonial law — it was u the shadow of 
good things to come," and as such we venerate it ; 
but now that the substance hath appeared, we are 
not content with guesses of grace, but we grasp 
him who is grace and truth. How much more 
highly are we favoured, than the ancient believers, 
for they by daily offerings confessed themselves to 
be incomplete ! They could never stay their hand 
and say, " It is enough," for daily sin demanded 
daily lambs for the altar. The Jews were never 
made complete by their law, for their rites " could 
never make the comers thereunto perfect ;" but 



224 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

this is our peculiar and superior privilege, that we 
are perfected by the one offering on Calvary. 

2. We are complete without the help of philo- 
sophy. — In Paul's time, there were some who 
thought that philosophy might be used as a supple- 
ment to faith. They argued, contended, and mys- 
tified every doctrine of revelation. Happy would 
it have been for them and the Church had they 
heeded the words of Paul, and kept entirely to 
the simplicity of the Gospel, glorying only in the 
cross of Christ! The Christian has such a sub- 
lime system of doctrine that he never need to fear 
the vain speculations of an infidel science, nor 
need he ever call in the sophisms of the worldly 
wise to prop his faith — in Christ he is complete. 
We have never heard of a dying believer asking 
the aid of a worldly philosophy to give him words 
of comfort in the hour of dissolution. No ! he has 
enough in his own religion — enough in the person of 
his Redeemer — enough in the comforts of the Holy 
Ghost. Never let us turn aside from the faith be- 
cause of the sneer of the learned : this Christian 
will not, cannot do — for we see that eternal evi- 
dence in our religion which we may call its best 
proof, namely, the fact that in it we are complete. 

No man can add anything to the religion of 
Jesus. All that is consistent with truth is already 
incorporated in it, and with that which is not true 
it can form no alliance There is nothing new in 



COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 225 

theology save that which is false. Those who seek 
to improve the Gospel of Jesus do but deface it. It 
is so perfect in itself that all additions to it are but 
excrescences of error ; and it renders us so com- 
plete that aught we join with it is supererogation, 
or worse than that. David would not go to the 
fight in Saul's armour, for he had not proved it ; 
so can we say, " the sling and stone are to us abun- 
dant weapons ; as for the mail of philosophy, we 
leave that for proud Goliahs to wear." One of the 
most evil signs of our day is its tendency to ration- 
alism, spiritualism, and multitudes of other means 
of beclouding the simple faith of our Lord Jesus : 
but the Lord's chosen family will not be beguiled 
from their steadfastness, which is the only hope of 
an heretical generation ; for they know whom they 
have believed, and will not renounce their confi- 
dence in him for the sophistries of the " wise and 
prudent." 

3. Complete without the inventions of supersti- 
tion. — God is the author of all revealed and spirit- 
ual religion ; but man would write an appendix. 
There must be works of supererogation, deeds of 
penance, acts of mortification, or else the poor 
papist can never be perfected. Yea, when he has 
most vigorously applied the whip, when he has 
fasted even to physical exhaustion, when he has 
forfeited all that is natural to man — yet he is never 
sure that he has done enough, he can never say 

10* 



THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 



that he is complete; but the Christian, without 
any of these, feels that he has gained a consumma- 
tion by those last words of his Saviour — " It is 
finished !" The blood of his agonising Lord is his 
only and all-sufficient trust. He despises alike the 
absolutions and the indulgences of priest or pontiff; 
he tramples on the refuge of lies which the de- 
ceiver has build ed — his glory and his boast ever 
centring in the fact that he is complete in Christ. 
Let but this sentence be preached throughout the 
earth, and believed by the inhabitants thereof, and 
all the despots on its surface could not buttress the 
tottering church of Home, even for a single hour. 
Men would soon cry out, " Away with the usurper ! 
away with her pretensions! there is all in Christ; 
and what can she add thereto, saving her mum- 
meries, pollutions, and corrupt abominations." 

4. We are complete without human merit, our 
own works oeing regarded as filthy rags. — How 
many there are who, while waxing warm against 
popery, are fostering its principles in their own 
minds ! The very marrow of popery is reliance on 
our own works ; and in God's sight the formalist 
and legalist are as contemptible, if found in an 
orthodox church, as if they were open followers of 
Antichrist. Brethren, let us see to it that we are 
resting alone in the righteousness of Jesus, that he 
is all in all to us. Let us never forget that if we 
are perfect in him, we are perfect only in him. 



COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 227 

While we would diligently cultivate works of holi- 
ness, let us be careful lest we seek to add to the 
perfect work of Jesus. The robe of righteousness 
. that nature spins and weaves is too frail a fabric to 
endure the breath of the Almighty, we must, there- 
fore, cast it all away — creature doings must not be 
united with, or regarded as auxiliary to Divine 
satisfaction. 

We would be holy, even as God is, but we are 
still confident that this will not be supplementing 
the great righteousness which is ours by imputa- 
tion. 'No ; though compassed with sin and sur- 
rounded by our depravity, we know that we are so 
complete in Jesus that we could not be more so, 
even were we free from all these things, and glori- 
fied as the spirits of just men made perfect. 

Blessed completely through the God-man, let our 
unbelief be ashamed, and let our admiration be 
fastened upon this interesting and delightful state 
of privilege. Arise, believer ! and behold thyself 
". perfect in Christ Jesus." Let not thy sins shake 
thy faith in the all-sufficiency of Jesus. Thou art, 
with all thy depravity, still in him, and therefore 
complete. Thou hast need of nothing beyond 
what there is in him. In him thou art at this 
moment just, in him entirely clean, in him an 
object of divine approval and eternal love. Now, 
as thou art, and where thou art, thou art still com- 
plete. Feeble, forgetful, frail, fearful, and fickle in 



228 THE SAfNT AND HIS SAVIOUE. 



thyself, yet in Him thou art, all that can be 
desired. Thine unrighteousness is covered, thy 
righteousness is accepted, thy strength is perfected, 
safety secured, and thy heaven certain. Bejoice, 
then, that thou art " Complete in him." Look on 
thine own nothingness and be humble, but look at 
Jesus, thy great representative, and be glad. Be 
not so intent upon thine own corruptions as to for- 
get his immaculate purity, which he has given to 
thee. Be not so mindful of thine original poverty 
as to forget the infinite riches which he has con- 
ferred upon thee. It will save thee many pangs if 
thou wilt learn to think of thyself as being in Him, 
and as being by his glorious grace accepted in him, 
and perfect in Christ Jesus. 

II. Ye aee fully supplied in Him. — Having 

him, we have all that we can possibly require. The 
man of God is thoroughly furnished in the posses- 
sion of his- great Saviour. He never need to look 
for anything beyond, for in him all is treasured. 
Do we need forgiveness for the past ? Pardons, 
rich and free, are with Jesus. Grace to cover all 
our sin is there ; grace to rise above our follies and 
our faults. Is it wisdom which we lack ? He is 
made of God unto us wisdom. His finger shall 
point out our path in the desert ; his rod and staff 
shall keep us in the way when we walk through 
the valley of the shadow of death. In our com- 



COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 229 

bats with the foe do we feel want of strength f Is 
he not Jehovah, mighty to save? "Will he not 
increase power unto the faint, and succour the 
fallen ? Need we go to Assyria, or stay on Egypt, 
for help? Nay, these are broken reeds. Surely, 
in the Lord Jehovah have we righteousness and 
strength. The battle is before us, but we tremble 
not at the foe ; we feel armed at all points, clad in 
impenetrable mail, for we are fully supplied in him. 
Do we deplore our ignorance ? He will give us 
knowledge /He can open our ear to listen to mys- 
teries unknown. Even babes shall learn the won- 
ders of his grace, and children shall be taught of 
the Lord. No other teacher is required ; He is 
alone efficient and all-sufficient. Are we at times 
distressed? We need not inquire for comfort, for 
in him, the consolation of Israel, there are fats full 
of the oil of joy, and rivers of the wine of thanks- 
giving. The pleasures of the world are void to us, 
for we have infinitely more joy than they can give 
in Him who has made us complete. 

Ah ! my reader, whatever exigencies may arise, 
we shall never need to say, "We have searched, 
but cannot find what we require ; for it is, and ever 
shall be, found in the storehouse of mercy, even in 
Jesus Christ." " It hath pleased the Father that 
in hi in should all fulness dwell ;" and truly none ol 
the saints have ever complained of any failure in 
Him. Tens of thousands of them have drawn frorn 



230 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 



this sacred well, yet is it as full as ever, and all 
who come to it are supplied with the full measure 
of their necessities. Jesus is not one single sprig 
of myrrh, but " a bundle of myrrh is my beloved 
unto me ;" * not one mercy, but a string of mer- 
cies, for " my beloved is unto me as a cluster of 
camphire." " In Christ is a cluster of all spiritual 
blessings, all the blessings of the everlasting cove- 
nant are in his hands and at his disposal ; and 
saints are blessed with all spiritual blessings in 
heavenly places in him. He is the believer's wis- 
dom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption. 
There is not a mercy we want but is in him, or a 
blessing we enjoy but what we have received from 
him. He is the believer's ' all in alV " f The 
word translated " complete " is used by Demos- 
thenes in describing a ship as fully manned — and 
truly the Christian's ship, from prow to stern, is 
well manned by her captain, who himself steers the 
vessel, stills the storm, feeds the crew, fills the sails, 
and brings all safe to their desired haven. In 
every position of danger or duty, Christ himself is 
all-sufficient for protection or support. Under 
every conceivable or inconceivable trial, we shall 
find in him sufficient grace : should every earthly 
stream be dried, there is enough in him, in the 
absence of them all. His glorious person is the 

* SoL Song, i. 13, 14. f Dr. Gill. 



COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 231 

dwelling-place of all-sufficiency. " In him dwell- 
eth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily ;" as the 
fulness of Deity is sufficient to create and sustain a 
universe of pondrous orbs, and whole worlds of 
living creatures, can it be supposed that it will be 
found unable to supply the necessities of saints ? 
Such a fear would be as foolish as if a man should 
tremble lest the atmosphere should prove too little 
for his breath, or the rivers too shallow for his 
thirst. To imagine the riches of the incarnate 
God to fail, would be to conceive a bankrupt 
God, or a wasted infinite. Therefore, let us set 
up our banners in his name, and exceedingly 
rejoice. 

III. A third reading is — Ye are satisfied in 
Him. — Satisfaction is a jewel rare and precious. 
Happy is the merchant-man who finds it. "We 
may seek it in riches ■, but it lieth not there. We 
may heap up gold and silver, pile on pile, until we 
are rich beyond the dream of avarice, then thrust 
our hands into our bags of gold, and search there 
for satisfaction, but we have it not. Our heart, 
like the horseleech, crieth, " Give, give." We may 
erect fhe palace and conquer mighty nations, but 
among the trophies which decorate the hall, there 
is not that precious thing which worlds cannot buy. 
But give us Christ, let us be allied to him, and our 
heart is satisfied. We are content in poverty — we 



232 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 



We 

let 



are rich ; in distress we have all, and abonnd. 
are full, for we are satisfied in him. 

Again, let us explore the fields of knowledge / let 
us separate ourselves, and intermeddle with all 
wisdom ; let us dive into the secrets of nature ; let 
the heavens yield to the telescope, and the earth to 
our research ; let us turn the ponderous tome and 
pore over the pages of the mighty folio ; let us take 
our seat among the wise, and become professors of 
science : but, alas ! we soon shall loathe it all, for 
" much study is a weariness of the flesh." But let 
us turn again to the fountain-head, and drink of the 
waters of revelation : we are then satisfied. What- 
ever the pursuit may be, whether wc invoke the 
trump of fame to do us homage, and bid our fel- 
lows offer the incense of honour, or pursue the 
pleasures of sin, and dance a giddy round of merri- 
ment, or follow the less erratic movements of 
commerce, and acquire influence among men, we 
shall still be disappointed, we shall have still an 
aching void, an emptiness within; but when we 
gather up our straying desires, and bring them to ■ 
a focus at the foot of Calvary, we feel a solid 
satisfaction, of which the world cannot deprive 
us. 

Among the sons of men there are not a few of 
restless spirit, whose uneasy souls are panting for 
an unknown good, the want of which they feel, but 
the nature of which they do not comprehend. 



COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 233 

These will hurry from country to country, to do lit- 
tle else but attempt a hopeless escape from them- 
selves ; they will flit from pleasure to pleasure, 
with the only gain of fresh grief from repeated dis- 
appointments. It were hard indeed to compound 
a medicine for minds thus diseased. Verily, the 
aromatics and balms of Araby, or the islands of 
the sea, might be exhausted ere the elixir of satis- 
faction could be distilled, and every mystic name 
in the vocabulary of the wise might be tried in vain 
to produce the all-precious charm of quiet. But in 
the Gospel we find the inestimable medicine al- 
ready compounded, potent enough to allay the most 
burning fever, and still the most violent palpita- 
tions of the heart. This we speak from experience, 
for we too were once, like the unclean spirit " seek- 
ing rest and finding none;" we once groaned for an 
unseen something, which in all our joys we could 
not find, and now, by God's great love, we have 
found the water which has quenched our thirst — it 
is that which Jesus gives, " the living water " of his 
grace. We revel in the sweets of the name of 
Jesus, and long for nought beside. Like jNaphtali, 
we are satisfied with favour, and full of the bless- 
ing of the Lord. Like Jacob, we exclaim, " It is 
enough." The soul is anchored, the desire is " sa- 
tiated with fatness," the whole man is rich to all the 
intents of bliss, and looketh for nothing more. Al- 
len, in his Heaven Opened, represents the believer 



"2 34 THE SAINT AND HTS SAVIOUR. 

as soliloquising in the following joyous manner : — 
" O happy soul, how rich art thou ! What a booty 
have I gotten ! It is all mine own. I have the 
promises of this life, and of that which is to come. 
Oh ! what can I wish more ? How full a charter 
is here ! iSTow, my doubting soul may boldly and 
believingly say with Thomas, ; My Lord and my 
God.' What need we any further witness ? We 
have heard his words. He hath sworn by his holi- 
ness that his decree may not be changed, and hath 
signed it with his own signet. And now return to 
thy rest, O my soul ! for the Lord hath dealt boun- 
tifully with thee. Say, if thy lines be not fallen to 
thee in a pleasant place, and if this be not a goodly 
heritage ? O blasphemous discontent ! how absurd 
and unreasonable an evil art thou, whom all the 
fulness of the Godhead cannot satisfy, because thou 
art denied in a petty comfort, or crossed in thy vain 
expectations from the world ! O my unthankful 
soul, shall not a Trinity content thee? Shall not 
all-sufficiency suffice thee? Silence, ye murmur- 
ing thoughts, for ever. I have enough, I abound, 
and am full. Infiniteness and eternity is mine, and 
what more can I ask ?" 

Oh may we constantly dwell on the blissful sum- 
mit of spiritual content, boasting continually in the 
completeness of our salvation in Him, and may we 
ever seek to live up to our great and inestimable 
privilege ! Let us live according to our rank and 



COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 235 

quality, according to the riches conveyed to ns by 
the eternal covenant. As great princes are so 
arrayed that you can read their estates in their 
garments, and discern their riches by their tables, 
so let our daily carriage express to others the value 
which we set upon the blessings of grace. A mur- 
mur is a rag which is ill-suited to be the dress of a 
soul possessed of Jesus ; a complaining spirit is too 
mean a thing for an heir of all things to indulge. 
Let worldlings see that our Jesus is indeed a suffi- 
cient portion. As for those of us who are continu- 
ally filled with rejoicing, let us be careful that our 
company and converse are in keeping with our 
high position. Let our satisfaction with Christ 
beget in us a spirit too noble to stoop to the base 
deeds of ungodly men. Let us live among the gen- 
eration of the just; let us dwell in the courts of 
the great King, behold his face, wait at his throne, 
bear his name, show forth his virtues, set forth his 
praises, advance his honour, uphold his interest, 
and reflect his image. It is not becoming that 
princes of the blood should herd with beggars, or 
dress as they do ; let all believers, then, come out 
from the world, and mount the hills of high and 
holy living ; so shall it be proved that they are 
content with Christ, when they utterly forsake the 
broken cisterns. 

IT. The text bears within it another meaning — 



236 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

Ye are filled in Him : — so "Wickliffe translated it, 
" ^.nb w bm fillib in Ijmtt." A possession of 
Jesus in the sonl is a filling thing. Our great 
Creator never intended that the heart should be 
empty, and hence he has stamped upon it the 
ancient rule that nature abhors a vacuum. The 
soul can never be quiet until in every part it is 
fully occupied. It is as insatiable as the grave, 
until it finds every comer of its being filled with 
treasure. Now, it can be said of Christian salva- 
tion, that it, and it alone, can fill the mind. Man 
is a compound being, and while one portion of his 
being may be full, another may be empty. There 
is nothing which can fill the whole man save the 
possession of Christ. 

The man of hard calculation, the lover of facts, 
may feast his head and starve his heart ; — the senti- 
mentalist may fill up his full measure of emotion, and 
destroy his understanding ; — the poet may render 
his imagination gigantic, and dwarf his judgment ; — 
the student may render his brain the very refine- 
ment of logic, and his conscience may be dying : — 
but give us Christ for our study, Christ for our 
science, Christ for our pursuit, and our whole man 
is filled. In his religion we find enough to exercise 
the faculties of the most astute reasoner, while yet 
our heart, by the contemplation, shall be warmed 
— yea, made to burn within us. In him we find 
room for imagination's utmost stretch, while yet his 



COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 237 

kind hand preserves us from wild and romantic 
visions. He can' satisfy our soul in its every part. 
Our whole man feels that his truth is our soul's 
proper food, that its powers were made to appropri- 
ate IIi?n, while He is so constituted that he is 
adapted to its every want. Herein lies the fault 
of all human systems of religion, they do but sub- 
jugate and enlist a portion of the man ; they light 
up with doubtful brilliance one single chamber of 
his soul, and leave the rest in darkness ; they cover 
him in one part, and allow the biting frost to be- 
numb and freeze the other, until the man feels that 
something is neglected, for he bears a gnawing 
within him which his false religion cannot satisfy. 
But let the glorious Gospel of the blessed Jesus 
come into the man, let the Holy Spirit apply the 
word with power, and the whole man is filled — 
eveiw nerve, like the string of a harp, is wound up 
and gives forth melody — every power blesses God 
— every portion is lighted up with splendour, and 
the man exclaims — 

" There rest, my long divided soul, 
Fixed on this mighty centre, rest." 

"Shaddai," the Lord all-sufficient, is a portion 
large enough to afford us fulness of joy and peace. 
In Him, as well as in his house, "there is bread 
enough and to spare." In the absence of all other 
good things, he is an overflowing river of mercy, 



238 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

and when other blessings are present, they owe all 
their value to Him. He makes our cup so full that 
it runneth over, and so lie is just what man's insa- 
tiable heart requires. It is a fact which all men 
must acknowledge, that we are never full till we 
run over — the soul never has enough till it has 
more than enough ; while we can contain, and 
measure, and number our possessions, we are not 
quite so rich as we desire. Pauperis est numerare 
pecus — we count ourselves poor so long as we can 
count our wealth. We are never satisfied till we 
have more than will satisfy us. But in Jesus 
there is that superabundance, that lavish richness, 
that outdoing of desire, that we are obliged to 
exclaim, "It is enough — Fm filled to the 
brim" 

How desirable is that state of mind which makes 
every part of the soul a spring of joys ! The most 
of men have but one well of mirth within them ; 
according to their temperament, they derive their 
happiness from different powers of the mind — one 
from bold imagination, another from solitary medi- 
tation, and a third from memory ; but the believer 
has many wells and man}?- palm-trees, for all that is 
within him is blessed by God. As the waters cov- 
er the sea, so has Divine grace flooded every por- 
tion of his being. He has no " aching void," no 
"salt land, and not inhabited," no k ' clouds without 
rain ;" but where once were disappointment and 



COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 239 

discontent, there are now " pleasures for evermore," 
for the soul is " filled in Him." 

Seek then, beloved Christian reader, to know 
more and more of Jesus. Think not that thou art 
master of the science of Christ crucified. Thou 
knowest enough of him to be supremely blest : but 
thou art even now but at the beginning. Notwith- 
standing all thou hast learned of him, remember 
thou hast but read the child's first primer; thou 
art as yet on one of the lower forms ; thou hast not 
yet a degree in the sacred college. Thou hast but 
dipped the sole of thy foot in that stream wherein 
the glorified are now swimming. Thou art but a 
gleaner — thou hast not at present handled the 
sheaves with which the ransomed return to Zion. 
King Jesus hath not showed thee all the treasures 
of his house, nor canst thou more than guess the 
value of the least of his jewels. Thou hast at this 
moment a very faint idea of the glory to which thy 
Redeemer has raised thee, or the completeness with 
which he has enriched thee. Thy joys are but sips 
of the cup, but crumbs from under the table. Up 
then to thine inheritance, the land is before thee, 
walk through and survey the lot of thine inherit- 
ance ; but this know, that until thou hast washed 
in Jordan, thou shalt be but as a beginner, not only 
in the whole science of Divine love, but even in 
this one short but comprehensive lesson, " Complete 
in Him." 



TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. 



Friend, — "We will venture one assertion, in the 
full belief that thou canst not deny it — thou art not 
entirely satisfied. Thou art one of the weary-foot- 
ed seekers of a joy which thou w T ilt never find out 
of Christ. Oh ! let this chapter teach thee to fore- 
go thy vain pursuit, and look in another direction. 
Be assured that, as hitherto thy chase has been a 
disappointment, so shall it continue to the end un- 
less thou dost run in another manner. Others have 
digged the mines of 'worldly pleasure, and have 
gained nothing but anguish and despair ; wilt thou 
search again where others have found nothing? 
Let the experience of ages teach thee the fallacy 
of human hopes, and let thine own failures warn 
thee of new attempts. 

But hark ! sinner, all thou needest is in Christ. 
He will fill thee, satisfy thee, enrich thee, and glad- 
den thee. Oh ! let thy friend beseech thee, " Taste 
and see that the Lord is good." 



VII. 

LOVE TO JESUS 



"Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest thit I low 
thee." — John xxi. 17. 



Christ rightly known is most surely Christ be- 
loved. No sooner do we discern, his excellencies, 
behold his glories, and partake of his bounties, than 
our heart is at once moved with love towards him. 
Let him but speak pardon to our guilty souls, we 
shall not long delay to speak words of love to his 
most adorable person. It is utterly impossible for 
a man to know himself to be complete in Christ, 
and to be destitute of love towards Christ Jesns. 
A believer may be in Christ, and yet from a holy 
jealousy, he may doubt his own affection to his 
Lord ? but love is most assuredly in his bosom, for 
that breast which has never heaved with love to 
Jesus, is yet a stranger to the blood of sprinkling. 

11 a* 



24:2 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

He that loveth not, hath not seen Christ, neither 
known him. As the seed expands in the moisture 
and the heat, and sends forth its green blade — so 
when the soul becomes affected with the mercy of 
the Saviour, it puts forth its shoots of love to hirt 
and desire after him. 

This love is no mere heat of excitement, nor doet 
it end in a flow of rapturous words ; but it causes 
the soul to bring forth the fruits of righteousness, 
to its own joy and the Lord's glory. It is a prin- 
ciple, active and strong, which exercises itself 
unto godliness, and produces abundantly things 
which are lovely and of good repute. Some of 
these we intend to mention, earnestly desiring that 
all of us may exhibit them in our lives. Dr. Owen 
very concisely sums up the effects of true love in 
the two words, adherence and assimilation: the 
one Knitting the heart to Jesus, and the other con- 
forming us to his image. This is an excellent sum- 
mary ; but as cu.r design is to be more explicit, we 
shall in detail review the more usual and pleasing 
of the displays of the power of grace, afforded by 
the soul which is under the influence of love to 
Christ. 

1. One of the earliest and most important signs 
of love to Jesus is the deed of solemn dedication of 
ourselves, with all we have and are, most unreserv- 
edly to the Lord's service. 

Dr. Doddridge has recommended a solemn cove- 



LOVE TO JESUS. 243 

nant between the soul and God, to be signed and 
sealed with doe deliberation and most fervent 
prayer. Many of the most eminent of the saints 
have adopted this excellent method of devot- 
ing themselves in very deed unto the Lord, and 
have reaped no little benefit from the re-perusal of 
that solemn document when they have afresh re- 
newed the act of dedication. The writer of the 
present volume conceives that burial with Christ 
in Baptism is a far more scriptural and expressive 
sign of dedication ; but he is not inclined to deny 
his brethren the liberty of confirming that act by 
the other, if it seem good unto them. The remarks 
of John Newton upon this subject are so cautious 
and sententious,* that w r e cannot forbear quoting 
them at length: — "Many judicious persons have 
differed in their sentiments with respect to the pro- 
priety or utility of such written engagements. 
They are usually entered into, if at all, in an early 
stage of profession, when, though the heart is warm, 
there has been little actual experience of its deceit- 
fulness. In the day when the Lord turns our 
mourning into joy, and speaks peace, by the blood 
of his cross, to the conscience burdened by guilt and 
fear, resolutions are formed which, though honest 
and sincere, prove, like Peter's promise to our Lord, 
too weak to withstand the force of subsequent 

* See "Life of Grimshaw," p. 13. 



244 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

unforeseen temptation. Such vows, made in too 
much dependence upon our own strength, not only 
occasion a farther discovery of our weakness, but 
frequently give the enemy advantage to terrify 
and distress the mind. Therefore, some persons, 
of more mature experience, discountenance the 
practice as legal and improper. But, as a scaffold, 
though no part of an edifice, and designed to be 
taken down when the building is finished, is yet 
useful for a time in carrying on the w T ork — so many 
young converts have been helped by expedients 
which, when their judgments are more ripened, 
and their faith more confirmed, are no longer ne- 
cessary. Every true believer, of course, ought 
to devote himself to the service of the Redeemer; 
yea, he must and will, for he is constrained by love. 
He will do it not once only, but daily. And many 
who have done it in writing can look back upon 
the- transaction with thankfulness to the end of life, 
recollecting it as a season of peculiar solemnity and 
impression, accompanied with emotions of heart 
neither to be forgotten nor recalled^ And the 
Lord who does not despise the day of small things, 
nor break the bruised reed, nor quench the smok- 
ing flax, accepts and ratifies the desire ; and merci- 
fully pardons the mistakes which they discover, as 
they attain to more knowledge of him and of them- 
selves. And they are encouraged, if not warranted 
to make their surrender in this manner, by the 



LOVE TO JESUS. 245 

words of the prophet Isaiah : — c One shall say, I am 
the Lord's, and another shall call himself by the 
name of Jacob, and another shall subscribe with 
his hand to the Lord, and surname himself by the 
name of Israel.' " * 

Whatever view we may take of the form of con- 
secration, we must all agree that the deed itself is 
absolutely necessary as a first fruit of the Spirit, 
and- that where it is absent there is none of the love 
of which we are treating. We are also all of us in 
union upon the point that the surrender must be 
sincere, entire, unconditional, and deliberate ; and 
that it must be accompanied by deep humility, 
from a sense of our unworthiness, simple faith in 
the blood of Jesus as the only medium of accep- 
tance, and constant reliance upon the Holy Spirit 
for the fulfilment of our vows. We must give our- 
selves to Jesus, to be his, to honour and to obey, if 
necessary, even unto death. We must be ready 
with Mary to break the alabaster box, with Abra- 
ham to offer up our Isaac, with the apostles to re- 
nounce our worldly wealth at the bidding of Christ, 
with Moses to despise the riches of Egypt, with 
Daniel to enter the lion's den, and with the three 
holy children to tread the furnace. We cannot re- 
tain a portion of the price, like Ananias, nor love 
this present world with Demas, if we be the genu- 

* Isa. xliv. 5. 



246 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

ine followers of the Lamb. We consecrate our all 
when we receive Christ as all. 

The professing Church lias many in its midst 
who, if they have ever given themselves to Christ, 
appear to be very oblivious of their solemn obli- 
gation. They can scarce afford a fragment of their 
weal th for the Master's cause ; their time is wasted^ 
or employed in any service but that of Jesus ; their 
talents are absorbed in worldly pursuits; and the 
veriest refuse of their influence is thought to be an 
abundant satisfaction of all the claims of heaven. 
Can such men be honest in their professions of at- 
tachment to the Lamb ? Was their dedication a 
sincere one ? Do they not afford us grave suspi- 
cion of hypocrisy ? Could they live in such a 
fashion if their hearts were right with God ? Can 
they have any just idea of the Saviour's deserv- 
ings ? Are their hearts really renewed ? We leave 
them to answer for themselves ; but we must en 
treat them also to ponder the follrwing questions, 
as they shall have one day to render an account j:o 
their Judge. Doth not God abhor the lying lip ? 
And is it not lying against God to profess that 
which we do not carry out ? Doth not the Saviour 
loathe those who are neither cold nor hot ? And are 
not those most truly in that case who serve God 
w T ith half a heart ? What must be the doom of 
those who have insulted Heaven with empty vows ? 
Will not a false profession entail a fearful punish- 






LOVE TO JESUS. 247 

merit upon the soul for ever ? And is lie not false 
who serves not the Lord with all his might \ Is it 
a little thing to be branded as a robber of God ? Is 
it a trifle to break our vows with the Almighty? 
Shall a man mock his Maker, and go unpunished ? 
And how shall he abide the clay of the wrath of 
God? 

May God make us ever careful that, by his Holy 
Spirit's aid, we may be able to live unto him as 
those that are- alive from the dead ; and since in 
many things we fall short of his perfect will, let us 
humble ourselves, and devoutly seek the moulding 
of his hand to renew us day by day. We ought 
ever to desire a perfect life as the result of full con- 
secration, even though we shall often groan that 
" it is not yet attained." Our prayer should be — 

" Take my soul and body's powers ; 
Take my memory, mind, and will ; 
All my goods, and all my hours ; 
All I know, and all I feel ; 
All I think, or speak, or do ; 
Take my heart — but make it new." * 

2. Love to Christ will make us u coy and tender 
to offend" — We shall be most careful lest the Sa- 
viour should be grieved by our ill manners. When 
some much-loved friend is visiting our house, we are 
ever fearful lest he should be ill at ease ; we there- 



0. Wesley. 



248 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

fore watch every movement in the family, that no- 
thing may disturb the quiet we desire him to 
enjoy. How frequently do we apologise for the 
homeliness of our fare, our own apparent inatten- 
tion, the forgetfulness of our servants, or the rude- 
ness of our children. If we suppose him to be 
uncomfortable, how readily will we disarrange our 
household to give him pleasure, and how disturbed 
are we at the least symptom that he is not satisfied 
with our hospitality. We are grieved if our words 
appear cold towards him, or our acts unkind. Wc 
would sooner that he should grieve us than that we 
should displease him. Surely we should not treat 
our heavenly Friend worse than our earthly ac- 
quaintance ; but we should sedulously endeavour to 
please Him in all things who pleased not himself. 
Such is the influence of real devotion to our pre- 
cious Redeemer, that the more the mind is per- 
vaded with affection to him, the more watchful 
shall we be to give no offence in anything, and the 
more sorrow shall we suffer because our nature is 
yet so imperfect that in many things we come short 
of his glory. A believer, in a healthy state of 
mind, will be extremely sensitive ; he will avoid 
the appearance of evil, and guard against the be- 
ginnings of sin. He will often be afraid to put one 
foot before another, lest he should tread upon for- 
bidden ground ; he will tremble to speak, lest his 
words should not be ordered aright ; he will be 



LOVE TO JESUS. 24'^ 

timid in the world, lest he should be surprised into 
transgression ; and even in his holy deeds he will 
be watchful over his heart, lest he should mock J lis 
Lord. This feeling of fear lest we should " slip 
with our feet," is a precious feature of true spi- 
ritual life. It is much to be regretted that it is so 
lightly prized by many, in comparison with the 
more martial virtues ; for, despite its apparent insig- 
nificance, it is one of the choicest fruits of the Spi- 
rit, and its absence is one of the most deplorable 
evidences of spiritual decay. A heedless spirit is 
a curse to the soul ; a rash, presumptuous conver- 
sation will eat as doth a canker. " Too-bold " was 
never Too-wise nor Too-loving. Careful walking is 
one of the best securities of safe and happy stand- 
ing. It is solemn cause for doubting when we arc 
indifferent in our behaviour to our best Friend 
When the new creature is active, it will be indig 
nant at the very name of sin ; it will condemn it 
as the murderer of the Redeemer, and wage as 
fierce a war against it as the Lord did with Ama- 
leck. Christ's foes are our foes when we are 
Christ's friends. Love of Christ and love of sin 
are elements too hostile to reign in the same heart. 
We shall hate iniquity simply because Jesus hates 
it. A good divine * writes : — " If any pretend 
unto an assurance of forgiveness through the me- 

* John Brine. 
11* 



250 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

rits of Jesus, without any experieuce of shame, 
sorrow, and hatred of sin, on account of its vile 
nature, I dare boldly pronounce such a pretension 
to be no other than a vain presumption, that is 
likely to be followed by an eternal loss of their 
immortal souls." 

He that is not afraid of sinning has good need to 
be afraid of damning. Truth hates error, holiness 
abhorreth guilt, and grace cannot but detest sin. If 
we do not desire to be cautious to avoid offending 
our Lord, we may rest confident that we have no 
part in him, for true love to Christ will rather die 
than wound him. Hence love to Christ is " the 
best antidote to idolatry ;"* for it prevents any 
object from occupying the rightful throne of the Sa- 
viour. The believer dares not admit a rival into his 
heart, knowing that this would grievously offend 
the King. The simplest way of preventing an ex- 
cessive love of the creature is to set all our affection 
upon the Creator. Give thy whole heart to thy 
Lord, and thou canst not idolize the things of earth, 
for thou wilt have nothing left wherewith to wor- 
ship them. 

3. If 'we love the lord Jesus we shall be obedient 
to his commands. — :False, vain, and boasting pre- 
tenders to friendship with Christ think it enough 
to talk fluently of him ; but humble, sincere, and 

* James Hamilton. 



LOVE TO JESUS. 251 

faithful lovers of the Lord are not content with 
words — they must be doing the will of their Mas- 
ter. As the affectionate wife obeys because she 
loves her husband, so does the redeemed soul de- 
light in keeping the commands of Jesus, although 
compelled by no force but that of love. This di- 
vine principle will render every duty pleasant ; yea, 
when the labour is in itself irksome, this heavenly 
grace will quicken us in its performance by remind- 
ing us that it is honourable to suffer for our Lord. 
It will induce an universal obedience to all known 
commands, and overcome that captious spirit of 
rebellion which takes exception to many precepts, 
and obeys only as far as it chooses to do so. It in- 
fuses not the mere act, but the very spirit of obe- 
dience, inclining the inmost heart to feel that its 
new-born nature cannot but obey. True, old cor- 
ruption is still there ; but this does but prove the 
hearty willingness of the soul to be faithful to the 
laws of its King, seeing that it is the cause of a 
perpetual and violent contest — the flesh lusting 
against the spirit, and the spirit striving against 
the flesh. We are willing to serve God when we 
love his Son : there may be obstacles, but no un- 
willingness. "We would be holy even as God is 
holy, and perfect even as our Father which is in 
heaven is perfect. And to proceed yet further, 
love not only removes all unwillingness, but 
inspires the soul with a delight in the service of 



252 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

God, by making the lowest act of service to appear 
honourable. A heathen * once exclaimed, Deo 
serviro est regnare — " to serve God is to reign :" so 
does the renewed heart joyfully acknowledge the 
high honour which it receives by obedience to its 
Lord. He counts it not only his reasonable, but 
his delightful service, to be a humble and submis- 
sive disciple of his gracious Friend. He would be 
unhappy if he had no opportunity of obedience — 
his love requires channels for its fulness ; he would 
pray for work if there were none, for he includes 
his duties among his privileges. In the young 
dawn of true religion this is very observable — 
would that it were equally so ever after ! Oh ! 
how jealous we were lest one divine ordinance 
should be neglected, or one rule violated. Nothing 
pained us more than our own too frequent wander- 
ings, and nothing gratified us more than to be 
allowed to hew wood or draw water at his bidding. 
"Why is it not so now with us all? Why 
are those wings, once outstretched for speedy flight, 
now folded in sloth ? Is our Redeemer less de- 
serving ? or is it not that we are less loving ? Let us 
seek by greater meditation upon the work and love 
of our Saviour, by the help of the Holy Spirit, to 
renew our love to him : otherwise our lamentation 
will soon be — " How is the much fine gold become 
dim ! How has the glory departed !" 

* Seneca. 



LOVE TO JESUS. 253 

4. Love to Christ will impel us to defend him 
against his foes. — 

" If any touch my friend, or his good name, 
It is my honour and my love to free his blasted fame 
From the least spot or thought of blame."* 

Good men are more tender over the reputation of 
Christ than over their own good name ; for they 
are willing to lose the world's favourable opinion 
rather than that Christ should be dishonoured. 
This is no more than Jesus has a right to expect. 
Would not he be a sorry brother who should hear 
me insulted and slandered, and yet be dumb ? 
Would not he be destitute of affection who would 
allow the character of his nearest relative to be 
trampled in the dust without a struggle on his be- 
half? And is not he a poor style of Christian who 
would calmly submit to hear his Lord abused? 
We could bear to be trampled in the very mire 
that Pie might be exalted ; but to see our glorious 
Head dishonoured, is a sight we cannot tamely be- 
hold. We would not, like Peter, smite his ene- 
mies with the sword of man ; but we would use the 
sword of the Spirit as well as we are enabled. 
Oh ! how has our blood boiled when the name of 
Jesus has been the theme of scornful jest ! how 
have we been ready to invoke the fire of Elias 
upon the guilty blasphemers ! or when our more 

* Herbert. , 



254 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

carnal heat has subsided, how have we wept, even 
to the sobbing of a child, at the reproach cast upon 
his most hallowed name ! Many a time we have 
been ready to burst with anguish when we have 
been speechless before the scoffer, because the Lord 
had shut us up, that we could not come forth ; but 
at other seasons, with courage more than we had 
considered to be within the range of our capability, 
we have boldly reproved the wicked, and sent them 
back abashed. 

It is a lovely spectacle to behold the timid and 
feeble defending the citadel of truth : not with hard 
blow x s of logic, or sounding cannonade of rhetoric — 
but with that tearful earnestness, and implicit con- 
fidence, against which the attacks of revilers are 
utterly powerless. Overthrown in argument, they 
overcome by faith ; covered with contempt, they 
think it all joy if they may but avert a solitary 
stain from the escutcheon of their Lord. " Call 
me what thou wilt," says the believer, " but speak 
not ill of my Beloved. Here, plough these shoul- 
ders with your lashes, but spare yourselves the sin 
of cursing him ! Ay, let me die : I am all too 
happy to be slain, if my Lord's most glorious cause 
shall live !" 

Ask every regenerate child of God whether he 
does not count it his privilege to maintain the 
honour of his Master's name; and though, his 
answer may be worded with holy caution, you will 



LOVE TO JESUS. 255 

not fail to discover in it enough of that determined 
resolution which, by the blessing of the Holy Spi- 
rit, will enable him to stand fast in the evil day. 
He may be careful to reply to such a question, lest 
he should be presumptuous ; but should he stand 
like the three holy children before an enraged 
tyrant, in the very mouth of a burning fiery fur- 
nace, his answer, like theirs, would be, " We are 
not careful to answer thee in this matter. If it be 
so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us 
out of the burning fiery furnace, and he will deli- 
ver us out of thy hand, O king ! But if not, be it 
known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve 
thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou 
hast set up." 

In some circles it is believed that in the event of 
another reign of persecution, there are very few in 
our churches who would endure the fiery trial : 
nothing, we think, is more unfounded. It is our 
firm opinion that the feeblest saint in our midst 
would receive grace for the struggle, and come off 
more than a conqueror. God's children are the 
same now as ever. Real piety will as well endure 
the fire in one century as another. There is the 
same love to impel the martyrdom, the same grace 
to sustain the sufferer, the same promises to cheer 
his heart, and the same crown to adorn his head. 
"We believe that those followers of Jesus who may 
perhaps one day be called to the stake, will die as 



256 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOtTJK. 

readily as any who have gone before. Love is still 
as strong as death, and grace is still made perfect 
in weakness. 

" Sweet is the cross, above all sweets, 
To souls enamoured with His smiles ; 
The keenest woe life ever meets, 
Love strips of all its terrors, and beguiles."* 

This is as true to-day, as it was a thousand years ago. 
We may be weak in grace, but grace is not weak : 
it is still omnipotent, and able to endure the trying 
day. 

There is one form of this jealousy for the honour 
of the cross which will ever distinguish the 
devout Christian : — he will tremble lest he himself, 
by word or deed, by omission of duty or commis- 
sion of sin, should dishonour the holy religion 
which he has professed. He will hold perpetual 
controversy with "sinful self" on this account, 
and will loathe himself when he has inadvertently 
given occasion to the enemy to blaspheme. The 
King's favourite will be sad if, by mistake or carer 
lessness, he has been the abettor of traitors : he 
desires to be beyond reproach, that his Monarch 
may suffer no disgrace from his courtier. Nothing 
has injured the cause of Christ more than the in- 
consistencies of his avowed friends. Jealousy for 

* Madame Guioii. 



LOVE TO JESUS. 257 

the honour of Christ is an admirable mark of 
grace. 

5. A firm attachment to the person of Christ will 
create a constant anxiety to promote his cause. — "With 
some it has produced that burning zeal which ena- 
bled them to endure banishment, to brave clangers, 
and to forsake comforts, in order to evangelize an 
ungrateful people, among whom they were not un- 
willing to suffer persecution, or even death, so that 
they might but enlarge the borders of Immanuel's 
land. This has inspired the laborious evangelist 
with inexhaustible strength to proclaim the word 
of his Lord from place to place, amidst the slander 
of foes and the coldness of friends ; this has moved 
the generous heart to devise liberal things, that the 
cause might not flag for lack of temporal supplies ; 
and this, in a thousand ways, has stirred up the host 
of God, with various weapons and in divers fielfls, 
to fiffht the battles of their Lord. There is little or 
no love to Jesus in that man who is indifferent con- 
cerning the progress of the truth. The man whose 
soul is saturated with grateful affection to his cru- 
cified Lord will weep when the enemy seems to get 
an advantage ; he will water his couch with tears 
when he sees a declining church ; he will lift up 
his voice like a trumpet to arouse the slumbering, 
and with his own hand will labour day and night 
to build up the breaches of Zion ; and should his 
efforts be successful, with what joyous gratitude 



258 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

will he lift np his heart unto the King of Israel, 
extolling him as much — yea, more — for mercies 
given to the Church than for bounties conferred 
upon himself. How diligently and indefatigably 
will he labour for his Lord, humbly conceiving 
that he cannot do too much, or even enough, for 
one who gave his heart's blood as the price of our 
peace. 

We lament that too many among us are like Is- 
sachar, who was described as " a strong ass crouch- 
ing down between two burdens," — too lazy to per- 
form the works of piety so imperatively demanded 
at our hands : but the reason of this sad condition 
is not that fervent love is unable to produce activi 
ty, but that such are deplorably destitute of that 
intense aifection which grace begets in the soul.- 

Love to Christ smoothes the path of duty, and 
wings the feet to travel it : it is the bow which im- 
pels the arrow of obedience ; it is the mainspring 
moving the wheels of duty ; it is the strong arm 
tngging the oar of diligence. Love is the marrow 
of the bones of fidelity, the blood in the veins of 
piety, the sinew of spiritual strength — yea, the life 
of sincere devotion. He that hath love can no more 
be motionless than the aspen in the gale, the sere 
leaf in the hurricane, or the spray in the tempest. 
As well may hearts cease to beat, as love to labour. 
Love is instinct with activity, it cannot be idle ; it 
is full of energy, it cannot content itself with lit- 



LOVE TO JESUS. 259 

ties : it is the well-spring of heroism, and great 
deeds are the gushings of its fountain ; it is a giant 
— it heapeth mountains upon mountains, and thinks 
the pile but little ; it is a mighty mystery, for it 
changes bitter into sweet ; it calls death life, and 
life death, and it makes pain less painful than en 
joyment. Love has a clear eye, but it can see only 
one thing — it is blind to every interest but that of 
its Lord ; it seeth things in the light of his glory, 
and weigheth actions in the scales of his honour ; it 
counts royalty but drudgery if it cannot reign for 
Christ, but it delights in servitude as much as in 
honour, if it can thereby advance the Master's king- 
dom ; its end sweetens all its means ; its object 
lightens its toil, and removes its weariness. Love, 
with refreshing influence, girds up the loins of the 
pilgrim, so that he forgets fatigue ; it casts a shad- 
ow for the wayfaring man, so that he feels not the 
burning heat ; and it puts the bottle to the lip of 
thirst. Have not we found it so ? And, under 
the influence of love, are we not prepared by the 
Spirit's sacred aid to do or suffer all that thought 
can suggest, as being likely to promote his hon- 
our ? 

He who desires not the good of the kingdom is no 
friend to the king ; so he who forgets tlie interests 
of Zion can scarce be a favourite with her Prince. 
We wish prosperity in estate and household to all 
Those in whom we delight ; and if we take pleasure 



260 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

in Jesus, we shall pray for the peace of Jerusalem, 
and labour for her increase. 

May " the Father of lights " give unto his 
Church more love to her Head, then will she be 
zealous, valiant, and persevering, and then shall her 
Lord be glorified. 

6. It is a notable fact that fervent love to Jesus 
will enable us to endure anything he is pleased to 
lay upon us. — Love is the mother of resignation : 
we gladly receive buffeting and blows from Jesus 
when our heart is fully occupied with his love. 
Even as a dearly- cherished friend does but delight 
us when he uses freedoms with us, or when he 
takes much liberty in our house — so Jesus, when 
we love him heartily, will never offend us by aught 
that he may do. Should he take our gold, we 
think his hand to be a noble coffer for our wealth ; 
should he remove our joys, we reckon it a greater 
bliss to lose than gain, when his will runs in such 
a channel. Ay, should he smite us very sorely, we 
shall turn to his hand and kiss the rod. To believe 
that Christ has done it, is to extract the sting of an 
affliction. We remember to have heard a preacher 
at a funeral most beautifully setting forth this truth 
in parable. He spoke thus : — " A certain noble- 
man had a spacious garden, which he left to the 
care of a faithful servant, whose delighfe it was to 
train the creepers along the trellis, to water the 
seeds in the time of drought, to support the stalks 



LOVE TO JESUS. 261 

of the tender plants, and to do every work which 
could render the garden a Paradise of flowers. 
One morning he rose with joy, expecting to tend 
his beloved flowers, and hoping to find his favour- 
ites increased in beauty. To his surprise, he found 
one of his choicest beauties rent from its stem, and, 
looking around him, he missed from every bed the 
pride of his garden, the most precious of his bloom- 
ing flowers. Full of grief and anger, he hurried 
to his fellow-servants, and demanded who had thus 
robbed him of his treasures. They had not done 
it, and he did not charge them with it ; but he 
found 110 solace for his grief till one of them re- 
marked : — ' My lord was walking in the garden this 
morning, and I saw him pluck the flowers and carry 
them away.' Then truly he found he had no cause 
for his trouble. He felt it was well that his master 
had been pleased to take his own, and he went 
away, smiling at his loss, because his lord had taken 
them. So," said the preacher, turning to the 
mourners, " you have lost one whom you regarded 
with much tender affection. The bonds of endear- 
ment have not availed for her retention upon earth. 
I know your wounded feelings when, instead of 
the lovely form which was the embodiment of all 
that is excellent and amiable, you behold nothing 
but ashes and corruption. But remember my 
beloved, the Lord hath done it. He hath re- 
moved the tender mother, the affectionate wife. 



262 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

the inestimable friend. I say a^ain, remember 
your own Lord has done it ; therefore do 
not murmur, or yield yourselves to an excess of 
grief." There was much force as well as beauty in 
the simple allegory : it were well if all the Lord's 
family had grace to practise ito heavenly lesson, in 
all times of bereavement and affliction. 

Our favourite master of quaint conceits * has 
singularly said in his poem entitled " Unkindness" — 

" My friend may spit upon my curious floor." 

True, most true, our Beloved may do as he pleases 
in our house, even should he break its ornaments 
and stain its glories. Come in, thou heavenly 
guest, even though each footstep on our floor should 
crush a thousand of our earthly joys. Thou art thy- 
self more than sufficient recompence for all that 
thou canst take away. Come in, thou brother of 
our souls, even though thy rod come with thee. 
"We would rather have thee, and trials with thee, 
than lament thine absence even though surrounded 
with all the wealth the universe can bestow. 

The Lord's prisoner in the dungeon of Aberdeen 
thus penned his belief in the love of his "sweet 
Lord Jesus," and his acquiescence in his Master's 
w T ill : — " Oh, what owe I to the file, to the hammer, 
to the furnace, of my Lord J esus ! who hath now 
let me see how good the wheat of Christ is, which 

* Herbert. 



LOVE TO JESUS. 263 

goeth through his mill; to be made bread for his own 
table. Grace tried is better than grace, and more 
than grace — -it is glory in its infancy. When Christ 
blesses his own crosses with a tongue, they breathe 
out Christ's love, wisdom, kindness, and care of us. 
Why should I start at the plough of my Lord, that 
maketh deep furrows upon my soul ? I know that 
He is no idle husbandman ; He purposeth a crop 
Oh, that this white, withered lea-ground were made 
fertile to bear a crop for him, by whom it is so 
painfully dressed, and that this fallow-ground were 
broken up ! Why was I (a fool !) grieved that He 
put his garland and his rose upon my head — the 
glory and honour of his faithful witnesses ? I de- 
sire now to make no more pleas with Christ. Ver- 
ily, He hath not put me to a loss by what I suffer- 
ed ; He oweth me nothing ; for in my bonds how 
sweet and comfortable have the thoughts of Him 
been to me, wherein 1 find a sufficient recompence 
of reward !" 

7. To avoid tiring the reader with a longer list 
of " the precious fruits put forth by the Sun " of 
love, we will sum up all in the last remark — that 
the gracious soul will labour after an entire anni- 
hilation of selfishness, and a complete absorption 
into Christ of its aims, joys, desires, and hopes. 
The highest conceivable state of spirituality is pro- 
duced by a concentration of all the powers and pas- 
sions of the soul upon the person of Christ. We 



264: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

have asked a great thing when we have begged to 
he wholly surrendered to be crucified. It is the 
highest stage of manhood to have no wish, no 
thought, no desire, but Christ — to feel that to die 
were bliss, if it were for Christ — that to live in 
penury, and woe, and scorn, and contempt, and mis- 
ery, were sweet for Christ — to feel that it matters 
nothing what becomes of one's self, so that our 
Master is but exalted — to feel that though like a 
sear leaf, we are blown in the blast, we are quite 
careless whither we are going, so long as we feel 
that the Master's hand is guiding us according to 
his will ; or, rather, to feel that though like the dia- 
mond, we must be exercised with sharp tools, yet 
we care not how sharply we may be cut, so that we 
may be made fit brilliants to adorn his crown. If 
any of us have attained to this sweet feeling of self- 
annihilation, we shall look up to Christ as if He 
were the sun, and we shall say within ourselves, 
" O Lord, I see thy beams ; I feel myself to be — 
not a beam from thee — but darkness, swallowed up 
in thy light. The most I ask is, that thou wouldst 
live in me, — that the life I live in the flesh may not 
be my life, but thy life in me ; that I may say with 
emphasis, as Paul did, " For me to live is Christ." 
A man who has attained this high position has 
indeed " entered into rest." To him the praise or 
the censure of men is alike contemptible, for he has 
learned to look upon the one as unworthy of his 



LOVE TO JESUS. 265 

pursuit, and the other as beneath his regard. He 
is no longer vulnerable, since he has in himself no 
separate sensitiveness, but has united his whole be- 
ing with the cause and person of the Redeemer. 
As long as there is a particle of selfishness remain- 
ing in us, it will mar our sweet enjo} T ment of Christ ; 
and until we get a complete riddance of it, our joy 
will never be unmixed with grief. We must dig 
at the roots of our selfishness to find the worm which 
eats our happiness. The soul of the believer will 
always pant for this serene condition of passive sur- 
render, and will not content itself until it has thor- 
oughly plunged itself into the sea of divine love. 
Its normal condition is that of complete dedication, 
and it esteems every deviation from such a state as 
a plague-mark and a breaking forth of disease. 
Here, in the lowest valley of self-renunciation, the 
believer w r alks upon a very pinnacle of exaltation ; 
bowing himself, he knows that he is rising immea- 
surably high when he is sinking into nothing, and, 
falling flat upon his face, he feels that he is thus 
mounting to the highest elevation of mental 
grandeur. 

It is the ambition of most men to absorb others 
into their own life, that they may shine the more 
brightly by the stolen rays of other lights , but it 
is the Christian's highest aspiration to be absorbed 
into another, and lose himself in the glories of his 
sovereign and Saviour. Proud men hope that the 

12 



266 THE SAINT AND HIS SA"VIOTTK. 

names of others shall but be remembered as single 
words in their own long titles of honour ; but loving 
children of God long for nothing more than to see 
their own names used as letters in the bright records 
of the doings of the Wonderful, the Councillor. 

Heaven is a state of entire acquiescence in the 
will of God, and perfect sympathy with his pur- 
poses ; it is, therefore, easy to discern that the desires 
we have just been describing are true earnests of. 
the inheritance, and sure signs of preparation for it. 

And now, how is it with the reader? Is he a 
lover of Jesus in verity and truth ? or does lie con- 
fess that these signs are not seen in him ? If he be 
indeed without love to Jesus, he has good need to 
humble himself and turn unto the Lord, for his soul 
is in as evil a condition as it can be this side hell ; 
and, alas ! will soon be, unless grace prevent, in a 
plight so pitiable that eternity will scarce be long 
enough for its regrets. 

It is more than probable that some of our readers 
are troubled with doubts concerning the truth of 
their affection for Jesus, although they are indeed 
his faithful friends. Permit us to address such with 
a word of consolation. 

You have some of the marks of true piety about 
you, — at least, you can join in some of the feelings 
to which we have been giving expression, — but 
still yon fear that you are not right in heart towards 
Christ. What is then your reason for such a sus- 



LOVE TC JESTJS. 267 

picion ? You reply that your excess of attachment 
towards your friends and relatives is proof that you 
are not sincere, for if you loved Jesus truly, you 
would love him more than these. You word your 
complaint thus : — " I fear I love the creature more 
than Christ, and if so my love is hypocritical. I 
frequently feel more vehement and more ardent 
motions of my heart to my beloved relatives than 
I do towards heavenly objects, and I therefore be- 
lieve that I am still carnal, and the love of God 
doth not inhabit my heart." 

Far be it from us to plead the cause of sin, or 
extenuate the undoubted fault which you thus com- 
mit ; but at the same time it would be even further 
from our design to blot out at once the whole of 
the names of the living family of God. For if our 
iove is to be measured by its temporary violence, 
we fear there is not one among the saints who has 
not at some time or other had an excessive love to 
the creature, and who has not, therefore, upon such 
reasoning, proved himself to be a hypocrite. Let 
it be remembered, therefore, that the strength of 
affection is rather to be measured by the hold it has 
upon the heart, than by the heat it displays at casu- 
al times and seasons. Flavel very wisely observes, 
" As rooted malice argues a stronger hatred than a 
sudden though more violent passion, so we must 
measure our love, not by a violent motion of it, now 
and then, but by the depth of the root and the con- 



268 THE SilNT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

stancy of its actings. Because David was so pas- 
sionately moved for Absalom, Joab concludes that 
if he had lived, and all the people died, it would 
have pleased him well ; but that was argued more 
like a soldier than a logician." 

If your love be constant in its abidings, faithful 
in its actings, and honest in its character, you need 
not distrust it on account of certain more burning 
heats, which temporarily and wickedly inflame the 
mind. Avoid these as sinful, but do not therefore 
doubt the truthfulness of your attachment to your 
Master. True grace may be in the soul without 
being apparent, for, as Baxter truly observes, "grace 
is never apparent and sensible to the soul but while 
it is in action." Fire may be in the flint, and yet 
be unseen except when occasion shall bring it out. 
As Dr. Sibbs observes in his SouVs Conflict, " There 
is sometimes grief for sin in us, when we think 
there is none ;" so may it be with love which may 
be there, but not discoverable till some circum- 
stance shall lead to its discovery. The eminent Pu- 
ritan pertinently remarks : — " You may go seeking 
for the hare or partridge many hours, and never 
find them while they lie close and stir not ; but 
when once the hare betakes himself to his legs, and 
the bird to her wings, then you see them presently. 
So long as a Christian hath his graces in lively ac- 
tion, so long, for the most part, he is assured of them. 
How can you doubt whether yon love God in the 



LOVE TO JESUS. 269 

act of loving ? Or whether you believe in the very 
act of believing ? If, therefore, you would be as- 
sured whether this sacred fire be kindled in your 
hearts, blow it up, get it into a flame, and then you 
will know ; believe till you feel that you do believe ; 
and love till you feel that you love." Seek to keep 
your graces in action by living near to the author 
of them. Live very near to Jesus, and think much 
of his love to you : thus will your love to him be- 
come more deep and fervent. 

We pause here, and pray the most gracious Fa- 
ther of all good to accept our love, as he has already 
accepted ns, in the Beloved / and we humbly crave 
the benign influence of his Holy Spirit, that we 
may be made perfect in love, and may glorify him 
to whom we now present ourselves as living sacri- 
fices, holy, acceptable unto God, which is our rea- 
sonable service. 

u Jesu, thy boundless love to me 

No thought can reach, no tongue declare ; 
knit my thankful heart to thee, 

And reign -without a rival there : 
Thine wholly, thine alone I am ; 
Be thou alone my constant flame 

grant that nothing in my soul 
May dwell, but thy pure love alone : 

may thy love possess me whole, 
My joy, my treasure, and my crown ; 

Strange flames far from my heart remove ; 

My every act, word, thought be love !'' 



TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. 



Again we turn to thee ; and art thou still where 
we left thee? still without hope, still unforgiven ? 
Surely, then, thou hast been condemning thyself 
while reading these signs of grace in others. Such 
experience is too high for thee, thou canst no more 
attain unto it than a stone to sensibility ; but, re- 
member, it is not too high for the Lord. He can 
renew thee, and make thee know the highest en- 
j oyment of the saints. He alone can do it, therefore 
despair of thine own strength ; but He can accom- 
plish it, therefore hope in omnipotent grace. Thou 
art in a wrong state, and thou knowest it: how 
fearful will it be if thou shouldst remain the same 
until death ! Yet most assuredly thou wilt, unless 
Divine love shall change thee. See, then, how ab- 
solutely thou art in the hands of God. Labour to 
feel this. Seek to know the power of this dread 
but certain fact — that thou liest entirely at his 
pleasure ; and there is nothing more likely to hum- 

270 



LOVE TO JESUS. 271 

ble and subdue thee than the thoughts which it will 
beget within thee. 

Know and tremble, hear and be afraid. Bow 
thyself before the Most High, and confess his jus- 
tice should He destroy thee, and admire his grace 
which proclaims pardon to thee. Think not that 
the works of believers are their salvation ; but seek 
first the root of their graces, which lies in Christ, 
not in themselves. This thou canst get nowhere 
but at the footstool of mercy from the hand of Jesus. 
Thou art shut up to one door of life, and that door 
is Christ crucified. Receive him as God's free gift 
and thine undeserved boon. Renounce every oth- 
er refuge, and embrace the Lord Jesus as thine only 
hope. "Venture thy soul in his hands. Sink or 
swim, let Him be thine only support and he will 
never fail thee. 

Believe on the Loed Jesus Christ, and thou 
shalt be saved. 



VIII. 
LOVE'S LOGIC. 

" The upright lore thee." — Sol. Song, i. 4. 

The motives of love are in a great degree the 
measure of its growth. The advanced believer 
loves his Lord for higher reasons than those which 
move the heart of the young convert. His affec- 
tion is not more sincere or earnest, but it is, or 
ought to be, more steadfast and unvarying, because 
experience has enabled the understanding to ad- 
duce more abundant reasons for the soul's attach- 
ment. All true love to the Redeemer is acceptable 
to him, and it is to us an infallible evidence of our 
safety in him. We are far from depreciating the 
value or suspecting the sincerity of the warm 
emotions of the newly enlightened, although we 
prefer the more intelligent and less interested 
attachment of the well-instructed Christian. Let 
none doubt the reality of their piety because they 

are unable to mount to all the heights, or dive into 
272 



273 



all the depths, of that love which passeth know- 
ledge. A babe's fondness of its mother is as 
pleasing to her as the strong devotion of her full- 
grown son. The graces of faith, hope, and love 
are to be estimated more by their honesty than by 
their degree, and less by their intellectual than 
by their emotional characteristics. Yet, without 
doubt, growth in grace is as much displayed in 
the Christian's love as in any other fruit of the 
Spirit ; and it is our belief that this growth may 
in some degree be traced by the motives which 
cause it, just as we trace the motion of the shower 
by the position of the clond from which it falls. 
It may be profitable to dwell upon the motives 
of love for a brief season, hoping for instruction in 
so doing. We do not pretend to enter fully into 
the present subject; and, indeed, our space pre- 
vents us as much as our incapacity. Owen's 
remark will be appropriate here : — " Motives unto 
the love of Christ are so great, so many, so dif- 
fused through the whole dispensation of God in 
him unto us, as that they can by no hand be fully 
expressed, let it be allowed ever so much to en- 
large in the declaration of them ; much less can 
they be represented in this short discourse, whereof 
but a very small part is allotted unto their con- 
sideration." * 

* Christologia. 

12* 



274 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

In enumerating some of the stages of spiritual 
growth as indicated by higher standards of motive, 
we pray the Holy spirit to guide our meditations, 
giving us profitable wisdom and gracious enlight- 
enment. Let us commence in entire dependance 
upon his aid, and so proceed from step to step as 
he shall be pleased to guide us. "We commence 
with the Alpha of Love, the first ripe fruit of 
affection. 

I. Love of Gratitude. " We love him because 
he first loved us." Here is the starting point 
of love's race. This is the rippling rill which 
afterwards swells into a river, the torch with which 
the pile of piety is kindled. The emancipated 
spirit loves the Saviour for the freedom which he 
has conferred upon it ; it beholds the agony with 
which the priceless gift was purchased, and it 
adores the bleeding sufferer for the pains which he 
so generously endured. Jesus is regarded as our 
benefactor, and the boons whicli we receive at his 
hands constrain us to give him our hearts. If 
enabled to receive all the doctrines of the Gospel, 
we bless the name of our Redeemer for his free 
grace manifested in our election to eternal life; 
for his efficacious grace exercised in calling us into 
his kingdom ; for pardon and justification through 
his blood and merits, and for everlasting security 
by virtue of union with his divine person. Surely 



275 



here is enough to create love of the highest order 
of fervency ; and if the' soul should abide for ever 
in contemplation of these mighty acts of grace, 
without entering upon the glorious survey of the 
character and perfections of Jesus, it need never 
be in want of reasons for affection. Here are 
coals enough to maintain the heavenly fire, if the 
Holy Spirit be but present -to fan the flame. This 
order of affection is capable of producing the most 
eminent virtues, and stimulating the most ardent 
zeal. It is enough for every practical purpose 
of the heavenly life. But nevertheless, there is a 
"yet beyond." There are other motives which 
are of a higher class in themselves, although very 
seldom more potent in their influence. This, how- 
ever, is the beginning. ',' I love the Lord because 
he has heard my voice and my supplication." It 
is his kindness toward us, rather than the gracious- 
ness of his nature, which primarily attracts us. 

The deeds of the Saviour do not so much arouse 
our early admiration from their intrinsic greatness 
and graciousness as from the fact that we have 
a share in them. This thought at first attracts all 
our regard, and engrosses all our meditations. 
Neither the person nor the offices of Christ have 
as yet been fully presented to the soul, — it knows 
him only in his gifts, and loves him only for what 
he has bestowed. Call this love selfish if you will, 
but do not condemn it. The Saviour frowned not 



276 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUE. 

on the woman who loved much, because much had 
been forgiven, nor did he -despise the offering of 
that heart which was first moved with affection 
at the casting out of its seven devils. Perhaps it 
is from a selfish reason that the infant casts the 
tendrils of its heart around its mother, but who 
would therefore despise its fondness ? Base must 
be tho. man who shouMwish to eradicate such a 
heaveuly germ because of the poverty of the soil 
in which it grew. Our love to God may even 
be heightened by due and wise self-love. " There 
is a sinful self-love, when either we love that for a 
self which is not ourself, — when we love our flesh 
and fleshly interest, — or when we love ourselves 
inordinately, more than God, and God only for 
ourselves ; and there is a lawful self-love, when we 
love ourselves in the Lord and for the Lord"* 
This lawful self-love leads us to love Christ, and 
to desire more and more of his grace, because we 
feel that so we shall be the more happy in our 
souls, and useful in our lives. This is in some 
degree earthy, but in no degree sinful, or anything 
but holy. 

It is not needful that the foundation-stones should 
be of polished marble, they will well enough sub- 
serve their purpose if they act as the underlying 
ground-work of more excellent materials. If it be 

* Allen's Riches of the Covenant. 



277 



a crime to be ungrateful, then thankfulness is a 
virtue, and its issue cannot be contemptible. 
Young beginners frequently doubt their piety, 
because they feel but little disinterested affection 
for the Lord Jesus ; let them remember that that 
high and excellent gift is not one of the tender 
grapes, but is only to be gathered beneath the 
ripening skies of Christian experience. " Do you 
love Christ?" is the important question, and if the 
answer be a firm avowal of attachment to him, it 
is decisive as to your spiritual condition, even 
though the further question, " "Why do you love 
him ?" should only receive for answer, " I love 
him because he first loved me." Indeed, in the 
loftiest stage of heavenly life, there must ever be a 
great and grateful mixture of motives in our love 
to our divine Master. We do not cease to love 
him for his mercies when we begin to adore him 
for his personal excellences ; on the contrary, our 
sense of the glory of the person who is our Re- 
deemer increases our gratitude to him for his con- 
descending regard of such insignificant creatures 
as ourselves. Thus the ripening shock of corn can 
hold fellowship with the tender blade, since both 
are debtors to the sunshine. Even the saints 
before the throne are in no small degree moved to 
rapturous love of their exalted King, by the very 
motive which some have been ready to under- 
value as selfish and unspiritual. They sing, " Thou 



278 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 






art worthy far thou wast slain, and hast redeemed 
us unto God by thy blood ;" and in their song 
who shall ever doubt that .grace, free grace, as 
exhibited in their own salvation, holds the highest 
place. 

Oh new-born soul, trembling with anxiety, if 
thou hast not yet beheld the fair face of thy be- 
loved, if thou canst not as yet delight in the majesty 
of his offices, and the wonders of his person, let 
thy soul be fully alive to the richness of his grace, 
and the preciousness of his blood. These thou hast 
in thy possession, — the pledges of thine interest in 
him ; love him then for these, and in due time he 
will discover unto thee fresh wonders and glories, 
so that thou shalt be able to exclaim, " The half 
has not been told me." Let Calvary and Gethse- 
mane endear thy Saviour to thee, though as yet thou 
hast not seen the brightness of Tabor, or heard the 
eloquence of Olivet. Take the lower room if thou 
canst not reach another, for the lowest room is in 
the house ; and its tables shall not be naked. But. 
study to look into thy Redeemer's heart, that thou 
mayst become more closely knit unto him. Re- 
member there is a singular love in the bowels of 
our Lord Jesus to his people, so superlatively excel- 
lent, that nothing can compare with it. No hus- 
band, no wife nor tender-hearted mother can com- 
pete with him in affection, for his love passeth the 
love of women. Nothing will contribute more to 



279 



make thee see Jesus Christ as admirable and lovely 
than a right apprehension of his love to thee ; this 
is the constraining, ravishing, engaging and over- 
whelming consideration which will infallibly steep 
thee in a sea of love to him. " Although," says 
Durham,* " there be much in many mouths of 
Christ's love, yet there are few that really know 
and believe the love that he hath to his people. (1 
John iii. 1.) As this is the cause that so few love 
him, and why so many set up other beloveds be- 
side him, so the solid faith of this and the expecta- 
tion of good from him, hath a great engaging vir- 
tue to draw sinners to him." Study then his love, 
and so inflame thine own ; for be thou ever mind- 
ful that the love of Jesus was costly on his part, 
and undeserved on thine. 

Here it will be right to mention the love which 
springs from a sense of possession of Christ. " O, 
Lord, thou art my God, early will I seek thee," is 
the vow which results from a knowledge of our pos- 
sessing God as our own. As God we ought to love 
him, but as our God we do love him. It is Christ 
as our Christ, his righteousness as imputed to us, 
and his atonement as our ransom, which at first 
cause our souls to feel the heat of love. " I cannot 
love another man's Christ," saith the anxious soul, 
"he must be mine or my soul can never be knit 

* Exposition of Sol, Song. 



280 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

i 

unto him ;" but when an interest in Jesus is per- 
ceived by the understanding, then the heart cries 
out, " My Lord and my God, thou art mine and I 
will be thine." It is worth while to be a man, de- 
spite all the sorrows of mortality, if we may have 
grace to talk in the fashion of a full assured believer 
when he rejoices in the plenitude of his possessions 
and gratefully returns his love as his only possible 
acknowledgment. Listen to him while he talks 
in the following strain : " My Beloved is mine, and 
I am his. The grant is clear and my claim is firm. 
"Who shall despoil me of it when God hath put me 
in possession, and doth own me as the lawful heri- 
tor ? My Lord hath himself assured me that he is 
mine, and hath bid me call his father, my father. 
I know of a surety that the whole Trinity are mine. 
6 1 will be thy God ' is my sweet assurance. O, my 
soul arise and take possession ; inherit thy blessed 
ness, and cast up thy riches ; enter into thy rest, 
and tell how the Lord hath dealt bountifully with 
thee. I will praise thee, O my God ; my King, I 
subject my soul unto thee. O, my Glory, in thee 
will I boast all the day ; O, my Rock, on thee will 
I build all my confidence. O staff of my life and 
strength of my heart, the life of my joy and joy of 
my life, I will sit and sing under thy shadow, yea, 
I will sing a song of loves touching my Well-be- 
loved." This is a precious experience, happy is 
the man who enjoys it. It is the marrow of life to 



281 



read our title clear ; and it is so for this reason, 
among others, that it creates and fosters a devout 
ardency of affection in the soul which is the posses- 
sor of it. Let all believers seek after it. 



II. Akin to the love inspired by thankfulness, 
but rising a step higher in gracious attainments, 
is Love caused by admiration of the manner in 
which the work of the Redeemer was performed. 
Having loved him for the deed of salvation, the 
believer surveys the labours of his Deliverer, and 
finds them in every part so excellent and mar- 
vellous, that he loves him with new force as he 
meditates upon them. He is altogether lovely 
to the soul in every office which he was graciously 
pleased to assume. "We behold him as our King, 
and when we see the power, the justice, and the 
grace which attend his throne, when we witness 
the conquest of his enemies, and remark his strong 
defence of his friends, we cannot but adore him, 
and exclaim, "All hail, we crown thee Lord of 
all." If his priestly office engages our meditation, 
it is precious to view him as the faithful High 
Priest ; remembering the efficacy of his mediation, 
and the prevalence of his intercession: or, if the 
mantle of the prophet is viewed as worn by Him 
upon whose brow the crown of empire and the 
diadem of the priesthood are both for ever placed, 
how becoming does it seem upon His shoulders 



282 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

who is wisdom's self! In his threefold character, 
in which all the offices are blended but none con- 
fused — all fulfilled, but none neglected — all carried 
to their highest length, but none misused, — how 
glorious does our Redeemer appear ! Sonnets will 
never cease for want of themes, unless it be that 
the penury of language should compel our wonder 
to abide at home, since it cannot find garments 
in which to clothe its thoughts. When the soul is 
led by the Holy Spirit to take a clear view of Jesus 
in his various offices, how speedily the heart is on 
fire with love ! To see him stooping from his 
throne to become man, next yielding to suffering 
to become man's sympathising friend, and then 
bowing to death itself to become his Ransom, 
is enough to stir every passion of the soul. To 
discern him by faith as the propitiation for sin, 
sprinkling his own blood within the vail, and nail- 
ing our sins to his cross, is a sight which never 
fails to excite the reverent, yet rapturous admira- 
tion of the beholder. Who can behold the triumphs 
of the Prince of Peace and not applaud him ! Who 
can know his illustrious merits, and not extol him % 
Doubtless this love of admiration is an after- 
thought, and can never be the primary acting of 
new-born love. The sailors rescued by the heroic 
daring of Grace Darling would first of all admire 
her as their deliverer, and afterwards, when they 
remembered her natural weakness, her philau- 



283 



thropic self-denial, her compassionate tenderness, 
and her heroic courage, they would give her their 
hearts for the manner in which the deed was done 
and the spirit which dictated it. In fact, apart 
from their own safety, they could scarcely avoid 
paying homage to the virtue which shone so 
gloriously in her noble act. Never, throughout 
life, could they forget their personal obligation 
to that bravest of women ; but at the same time 
they would declare, that had it not been their lot 
to have been rescued from the depths, they could 
not have refused their heart's admiration of a deed 
so heroic, though they themselves had not been 
profited by it. We, who are saved by grace, have 
room enough in our Redeemer's character for eter- 
nal love and wonder. His characters are so varied, 
and all of them so precious, that we may still gaze 
and adore. The Shepherd folding the lambs in his 
bosom, the Breaker dashing into pieces the oppo- 
sing gates of brass, the Captain routing all his 
foes, the Brother born for adversity, and a thousand 
other delightful pictures of Jesus, are all calculated 
to stir the affections of the thoughtful Christian. 
It should be our endeavour to know more of Christ, 
that we may find more reasons for loving him. A 
contemplation of the history, character, attributes, 
and offices of Jesus will often be the readiest way 
to renew our drooping love. The more clear is 
our view of Christ, the more complete will bo 



284 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

our idea of him ; and the more true our experience 
of him, so much the more constant and unwavering 
will be our heart's hold of him. Hence the impor- 
tance of communion with him, which is to a great 
extent the only means of knowing him. 

We would here caution the reader to make an 
important distinction when dwelling upon the 
phase of spiritual love now under consideration. 
Let him carefully remember that admiration of the 
moral character of Jesus of Nazareth may exist in 
an unregenerate heart, and that, apart from the 
love of gratitude, it is no acceptable fruit of the 
Spirit : so that this (in some sense) higher stone 
of the building, leans entirely upon the lower one, 
and without it is of no avail. Some pretend to 
admire the Prophet of Nazareth, but deny him 
to be the Son of God ; others wonder at him in his 
divine and human natures, but cannot lay hold on 
him as their Redeemer ; and many honour his 
perfect example, but despise his glorious sacrifice. 
Now, it is not love to a part of Christ which is the 
real work of the Spirit, but it is true devotion to 
the Christ of God in all that he is and does. Many 
manufacture a Christ of their own, and profess 
to love him : but it is not respect to our own 
anointed, but to the Lord's anointed, which can 
prove us to be God's elect. Seek then to know the 
Lord, that you may with your whole soul be united 
to him in affection. Come, now, lay aside this 



285 



volume for an hoL.r and regale yourself with a 
little of His company, then will you join with 
the devout Hawker in his oft-repeated confession : 
" In following thee, thou blessed Jesus, every 
renewed discovery of thee is glorious, and every 
new attainment most excellent. In thy person, 
offices, character, and relations, thou art most pre- 
cious to my soul. Thou art a glorious Redeemer, a 
glorious Head of thy Church and people; a glorious 
Husband, Brother, Friend, Prophet, Priest, and 
King in thy Zion. And when I behold thee in all 
these relative excellencies, and can and do know 
thee, and enjoy thee, and call thee mine under 
every one of them, surely I may well take up the 
language of this sweet Scripture, and say, ' Thou 
art more glorious and excellent than all the moun- 
tains of Prey !' " * 

If you are unable to obtain a view of the Man 
of grief and love, ask him to reveal himself by 
his Spirit, and when your prayer is heard, your 
soul will speedily be ravished with delight. 

" In manifested love explain, 
Thy wonderful design ; 
What meant the suffering Son of Man, 
The streaming blood divine? 

" Come thou, and to my soul reveal 
The heights and depths of grace , 
The wounds which all my sorrows heal, 
That dear disfigured face : 

* See his admirable Portions. 



286 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

" Before my eyes of faith confest, 
Stand forth a slaughter'd Lamb ; 
And wrap me in thy crimson vest, 
And tell me all thy name." 

III. Sympathy with Jesus in his great design 
is a cause as well as an effect of love to Him. 
Sanctified men have an union of heart with Jesus, 
since their aims are common. Both are seeking to 
honour God, to uproot sin, to save souls, and extend 
the kingdom of God on earth. Though the saints 
are but the private soldiers, while Jesus is their 
glorious Leader, yet they are in the same army, 
and hence they have the same desire for victory. 
From this springs an increase of love; for we cannot 
labor with and for those whom we esteem, without 
feeling ourselves more and more united to them. 
We love Jesus when we are advanced in the divine 
life, from a participation with him in the great 
w T ork of his incarnation. We long to see our fel- 
low-men turned from darkness to light, and we 
love Him as the Sun of righteousness, who can 
alone illuminate them. We hate sin, and therefore 
we rejoice in Him as manifested to take away sin. 
We pant for holier and happier times, and there- 
fore we adore Him as the coming Ruler of all lands, 
wdio will bring a millennium with him in the day 
of his appearing. The more sincere our desires, 
and the more earnest our efforts, to promote the 
glory of God and the welfare of man, the more 
will our love to Jesus increase. Idle Christians 



287 



always have lukewarm hearts, which are at once 
the causes and effects of their sloth. When the 
heart is fully engaged in God's great work, it will 
glow with love of the great Son, who was himself 
a servant in the same great cause. Does my phy- 
lanthropy lead me to yearn over dying men? Is 
my pity excited by their miseries ? Do I pray for 
their salvation, and labour to be the means of it? 
then most assuredly I shall, for this very reason, 
reverence and Jove the Friend of sinners, the 
Saviour of the lost. Am I so engrossed with the 
idea of God's majesty, that my whole being pants 
to manifest his glory and extol his name? Then I 
shall most certainly cleave unto him who glorified 
his Father, and in whose person all the attributes 
of Deity are magnified. If a sense of unity in 
aim be capable of binding hosts of men into one 
compact body, beating with one heart, and moving 
with the same step— then it is easy to believe that 
the heavenly object in which the saints and their 
Saviour are" both united, is strong enough to form 
a lasting bond of love between them. 

Trusting that we may be enabled in our daily 
conduct to prove this truth, we pass on to another 
part of the subject. 

IY. Experience. Experience of the love, ten- 
derness, and faithfulness of our Lord Jesus Christ 
will weld our hearts to him. The very thought of 



THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR 



the love of Jesus towards us is enough to inflame 
our holy passions, but experience of it heats the 
furnace seven times hotter. He has been with us 
in our trials, cheering and consoling us, sy mpathis- 
ing with every groan, and regarding every tear 
with affectionate compassion. Do we not love him 
for this? He has befriended us in every time of 
need, so bounteously supplying all our wants out 
of the riches of his fulness, that he has not suffered 
us to lack any good thing. Shall we be unmindful 
of such unwearying care ! He has helped us in 
every difficulty, furnishing us with strength equal 
to our day ; he has levelled the mountains before 
us, and filled up the valleys ; he has made rough 
places plain, and crooked things straight. Do we 
not lov,e him for this also ? In all our doubts he 
has directed us in the path of wisdom, and led us 
in the way of knowledge. • He has not suffered us 
to wander ; he has led us by a right way through 
the pathless wilderness. Shall we not praise him 
for this? He has repelled our enemies, covered 
our heads in the day of battle, broken the teeth of 
the oppressor, and made us more than conquerors. 
Can we forget such mighty grace ? When our sins 
have broken our peace, stained our garments, and 
pierced us with many sorrows, he has restored our 
souls, and led us in the path of righteousness for 
his name's sake. Are we not constrained to call 
upon all that is within us to bless his holy name? 



289 



He lias been as good as his word ; not one promise 
has been broken, but all have come to pass. In 
no single instance has he failed us ; he has never 
been unkind, unmindful, or unwise. The harshest 
strokes of his providence have been as full of love 
as the softest embraces of his condescending fellow- 
ship. We cannot, we dare not find fault with him. 
He hath done all things well. There is no flaw in 
his behaviour, no suspicion upon his affection. His 
love is indeed that perfect love which casteth out 
fear ; the review of it is sweet to contemplation ; 
the very remembrance of it is like ointment poured 
forth, and the present enjoyment of it, the expe- 
rience of it at the present moment, is beyond all 
things delightful. Whatever may be our present 
position, it has in it peculiarities unknown to any 
other state, and hence it affords special grounds of 
love. Are we on the mountains? we bless him 
that he maketh our feet like hind's feet, and mak- 
eth us to stand upon our high places. Are we in 
the valley ? then we praise him that his rod and 
staff do comfort us. Are we in sickness? we love 
him for his gracious visitations. If we be in 
health, we bless him for his merciful preservations. 
At home or abroad, on the land or the sea, in 
health or sickness, in poverty or wealth, Jesus, the 
never-failing friend, affords us tokens of his grace, 
and binds our hearts to him in the bonds of con- 
straining gratitude. 

13 



290 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

It must, however, be confessed that all the 
saints do not profit from their experience in an 
equal measure, and none of them so much as they 
might. All the experience of a Christian is not 
Christian experience. Much of our time is occu- 
pied with exercises as unprofitable as they are 
unpleasant. The progress of a traveller must not 
be measured by the amount of his toil, unless we 
can obtain a satisfactory proof that all his toil was 
expended in the right path ; for let him journey 
ever so swiftly, if his path be full of wandering?, 
he will gain but little by his labours. When we 
follow on to know the Lord in his own appointed 
way, the promise assures us that we shall attain to 
knowledge ; but if we run in the way of our own 
devising, we need not wonder if we find ourselves 
surrounded with darkness instead of light. How- 
ever, the Lord, who graciously overrules evil for 
good, has been pleased to permit it to remain as a 
rule in the lives of his children, that they learn by 
experience — and sure we are, that were we not 
dull scholars, we should in the experience of a sin- 
gle day discover a thousand reasons for loving the 
Redeemer. The most barren day in all our years 
blossoms with remembrances of his loving-kind- 
ness, while the more memorable seasons yield a 
hundredfold the fruits of his goodness. Though 
some days may add but little to the heap, yet by 
little and little it increases to a mountain. Little 



291 



experiences, if well husbanded, will soon make ns 
rich in love. Though the banks of the river do 
shelve but gently, yet he that is up to the ankles 
shall find the water covering his knees, if he do 
but continue his wading. Blessed is the saint 
whose love to his Lord hath become confirmed 
with his years, so that his heart is fixed, and fired, 
and flaming. He with his grey hairs and venera- 
ble countenance commands the attention of all men 
when he speaks well of the Lord Jesus, whom he 
hath tried and proved through more than half a 
century of tribulation mingled with rejoicing. As 
a youth his love was true, but we thought it little 
more than a momentary flash, which would die as 
hastily as it was born : but now no man can doubt 
its sincerity, for it is a steady flame, like the burn- 
ing of a well-trimmed lamp. Experience, when 
blessed by the Holy Spirit, is the saint's daily 
income, by which he getteth rich in affection ; and 
he who hath for a long time amassed his portion ot 
treasure may well be conceived to be more rich 
therein than the young beginner, who has as yet 
received but little. Would to God that we were 
all more careful to obtain and retain the precious 
gems which lie at our feet in our daily experience ! 
The experienced believer is in advance of his 
younger brethren if his experience has developed 
itself in a deeper, steadier, and more abiding love 
of Christ. He is to the babe in grace what th<* 



292 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

oak is to the sapling — more firmly rooted, more 
strong in heart, and broader in his spread ; his 
love, too, is to the affection of the beginner what 
the deep-rolling river is to the sparkling rill. 
Especially is this the case if he has done business 
on great waters, and. has been buried beneath the 
billows of affliction. He will, if he have passed 
through such exercises, be a mighty witness of the 
worthiness of his Lord — for tribulation unfolds the 
delights of covenant engagements, and drives the 
soul to feed upon them. It cuts away every other 
prop, and compels the soul to test the solidity 
of the pillar of divine faithfulness ; it throws a 
cloud over^the face of all created good, and leads 
the spirit to behold the sacred beauties of the Son 
of man ; and thus it enables the believer to know 
in the most certain manner the all-sufficiency of 
the grace of the Lord Jesus. Tried saints are con- 
strained to love their Redeemer ; not only on 
account of deliverance out of trouble, but also 
because of that sweet comfort which he affords 
them whilst they are enduring the cross. They 
have found adversity to be a wine-press, in which 
the juice of the grapes of Eschol could be trodden 
out ; an olive-press, to extract the precious oil from 
the gracious promises. Christ is the honeycomb, 
but experience must suck forth the luscious droj:>s; 
he is frankincense, but fiery trials must burn out 
the perfume ; he is a box of spikenard, but the 



293 



hard Land of trouble must break the box and pour 
forth the ointment. When this is done, when 
Jesus is experimentally known, he is loved in a 
higher manner than the newborn Christian can 
aspire to talk of. Aged and mellow saints have so 
sweet a savour of Christ in them that their conver- 
sation is like streams from Lebanon, sweetly 
refreshing to him who delights to hear of the glo- 
ries of redeeming love. They have tried the 
anchor in the hour of storm, they have tested the 
armour in the day of battle, they have proved the 
shadow of the great rock in the burning noontide 
in the weary land ; therefore do they talk of these 
things, and of Him who is all these unto them, 
with an unction and a relish which we, who have 
but just put on our harness, can enjoy, although 
we cannot attain unto it at present. We must dive 
into the same waters if we would bring up the 
same pearls. May the great Illuminator sow our 
path with light, that we may increase in knowledge 
of the love of Christ, and in earnestness of love to 
Christ, in proportion as we draw near to the celes- 
tial city. 

We now advance to another step, which stands 
in strict connection with the subject upon which 
we have just meditated. 

V. Communion opens up another means by which 
love is excited, and its nature affected. We love 



294 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

him because we have seen him, and entered into 
fellowship with him. However true and faithful 
the tidings which another person may bring us 
concerning the Saviour, we shall never feel love 
towards him in all the power of it until we have 
with our own eyes beheld him, or, rather, have 
laid hold on him with our own faith. Personal 
intercourse with Jesus is pre-eminently a cause of 
love, and it so infallibly quickens the affections 
that it is impossible to live in the society of Jesus 
without loving him. Nearness of life towards the 
Lamb will necessarily involve greatness of love to 
him. As nearness to the sun increases the tem- 
perature of the various planets, so close commu- 
nion with Jesus raises the heat of the affections 
towards him. 

We hope to have another opportunity of unfold- 
ing the sweetness of communion, and therefore we 
will but notice one part of it — viz., Christ's mani- 
festations, as being a mighty incentive to affection. 
Our blessed Lord, at intervals more or less fre- 
quent, is graciously pleased to shed abroad in the 
soul a most enchanting and rapturous sense of his 
love. He opens the ear of the favoured saint to 
hear the sweet canticles of the bridegroom's joy, 
and softly he singeth his song of loves. He mani 
tests his. heart to the heart of his chosen ones, so 
that they know him to be the sweetest, firmest, and 
most ardent of lovers. They feel that he loves as 



295 

a head, as a father, as a friend, as a kinsman, as a 
brother, as a husband ; they behold the love of all 
relationships united and exceeded in the love of 
Christ. They are confident that he loves them 
more than they love themselves ; yea, that he loves 
them above his own life. This tends to raise their 
souls towards him ; he becomes wholly delectable 
unto them, and is enshrined upon the highest 
throne of their hearts. Possessed with a sense 
of the love of their dying Lord, they feel that had 
they a heart as wide as eternity, it could not con- 
tain more love than they desire to give him. Thus 
are they impelled to daring service and patient 
suffering for his sake. " There is a power in this 
love which conquers, captivates, and overpowers 
the man, so that he cannot but love. God's love 
hath a generative power ; our love is brought forth 
by his love."* Say, poor soul, what get. you in 
Christ whenever you go to him ? Can you not say, 
Oh ! I get more love to him than I had before ; I 
never approached near to him but I gained a large 
draught and ample fill of love to God. Out of his 
fulness we receive grace for grace, and love for 
love. In a word, by faith we behold the glory 
of the Lord as in a glass, and are changed into the 
same image — and the image of God is love. No 
way so ready for begetting love to Christ as a 

* R. Erskine. 



296 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

sense of the love of Christ. The one is a loadstone 
to attract the other. As fire grows by the addi- 
tion of fuel, so does our love to Christ increase by 
renewed and enlarged discoveries of his love to us. 
Love is love's food. If, as parents, we make known 
our love to our children, and deal wisely with 
them, it is but natural that their affections should 
beeome more and more knit to us ; so it seems but 
as in the common course of things that where much 
of divine love is perceived by the soul, there will 
be a return of affection in some degree propor- 
tionate to the measure of the manifestation. As 
we pour water into a dry pump when we desire to 
obtain more — so must we have the love of Christ 
imparted to the heart before we shall feel any 
uprisings of delight in Him. Hence the import- 
ance of the apostolic prayer, that we may be able 
to understand with all saints what is the breadth, 
and length, and depth, and height, and to know 
the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge. 
Beloved fellow Christian, pray for more open dis- 
coveries of the love and loveliness of Christ, and 
thus shall thy languid passions move more readily 
in the paths of obedience. "We have all too much 
cause to mourn the poverty of our love ; let us not 
be slow to seek the help of the God of Israel to 
enable us to profit by all the condescending mani- 
festations with which the Lord sees fit to favour 
us. 



297 



VI. Love to tee Person of Jesus is a most 
delightful state of divine life. It will be observed 
that the Song of the Spouse, which is doubtless 
intended to be the expression of the highest order 
of love, is composed rather of descriptions of the 
person of the Bridegroom than of any relation of 
the deeds which he performed. The whole lan- 
guage of the Book of Canticles is love, but its most 
overflowing utterances are poured forth upon the 
sacred person of the Well-beloved. How do the 
words succeed each other in marvellous and melo- 
dious succession when the Church pours forth 
the fulness of its heart in praises of his beau- 
ties ! — " My beloved is white and ruddy, the 
chiefest among ten thousand. His head is as the 
most fine gold, his locks are bushy, and black as a 
raven. His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the 
rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set. 
His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers : 
his lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh. 
His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl : his 
belly is as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires. 
His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sock- 
ets of fine gold: his countenance is as Lebanon, 
excellent as the cedars. His mouth is most sweet : 
yea, he is altogether lovely." * Here it is not the 
crown, but the head, which is the theme of song ; 

* Sol. Sons v. 10—16. 



298 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

not the garment, but the unrobed body ; not the 
shoes, but the feet. The soog does not celebrate 
his descent from the king of ages, nor his lordship 
over the ministers of fire, nor his perpetual priest- 
hood, nor his unbounded sovereignty ; but it finds 
music enough in his lips, and beauty sufficient in 
his eyes without the glories which his high offices 
and omnipotent grace have procured for him. 
This indeed is true love ; though the wife regards 
her husband's gifts, and honours his rank and titles, 
yet she sets her affection upon his person, loves 
him better than his gifts, and esteems him for his 
own sake rather than for his position among men. 
Let us here observe, lest we should be misunder- 
stood, that we do not for a moment intend to insi- 
nuate that in the earlier states of the sacred grace 
of love, there is any lack of love to his person. 
We know that the first gushing of the fount of 
love is to Christ, and at all times the soul goes out 
towards him/ but we make a distinction which we 
think will be readily perceived, between love to 
the person, for the sake of benefits received and 
offices performed, and love to the person for the 
person? 8 sake. To suppose that a believer loves 
the office apart from the person is to suppose an 
absurdity, but to say that he may love the person 
apart from the office is but to declare a great fact. 
We love Him. at all times, but only the heavenly- 
minded love him for his own person? s sake. 



299 



What a precious subject for contemplation is the 
glorious being who is called Emmanuel, God with 
us, and yet " the I am," " God over all !" The 
complex person of the mediator, Jesus Christ, is 
the centre of a believer's heart. He adores him in 
all the attributes of his God-head, as very God of 
very God — Eternal, Infinite, Almighty, Immutable. 
He bows before him as " God over all, blessed for 
ever," and pays him loving homage as the everlast- 
ing Father, Prince of peace ; and at the same 
time he delights to consider him as the infant 
of Bethlehem, the Man of sorrows, the Son of man, 
bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh, tempted in 
all points like as we are, and owning kindred with 
the children of men. As man yet God, creature 
yet Creator, infant and Infinite, despised yet exalt- 
ed, scourged though Omnipotent, dying yet eter- 
nal, — our dear Redeemer must ever be the object 
of wondering affection. Yea, when faith is dim, 
and the Christian is in doubt as to his possession of 
his Lord, he will at times be able to feel that his 
thoughts of his Master's person are as high as ever. 
" Though he slay me, I must love him. If he will 
not look upon me, I cannot but bless him still. He 
is good and glorious, even though he damn me for 
ever. I must speak well of him, even if he will 
not permit me to hope in his mercy ; for he is a 
glorious Christ, and I will not deny it, though he 
6hould now shut up his bowels against an unworthy 



300 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

creature like myself." This is the sentiment of 
the quickened child of God, when his heart is 
thoroughly occupied with a full and faithful view 
of his Divine Lord. 

O the savour of the name of Jesus, when heard 
by the ear which has been opened by the Spirit ! O 
the beauty of the person of Jesus, when seen with 
the eye of faith by the illumination of the Holy 
One of Israel ! As the light of the morning, when 
the sun ariseth, as " a morning without clouds," is 
our "Well-Beloved unto us. The sight of the burn- 
ing bush made Moses put off his shoes, but the 
transporting vision of Jesus makes us put off all 
the world. When once He is seen we can discern 
no beauties in all the creatures in the universe. 
He, like the sun, hath absorbed all other glories 
into his own excessive brightness. This is the 
pomegranate which love feeds upon, the flagon 
wherewith it is comforted. A sight of Jesus 
causes such union of heart with him, such goings 
out of the affections after him, and such meltings 
of the spirit towards him, that its expressions often 
appear to carnal men to be extravagant and forced, 
when they are nothing but the free, unstudied, and 
honest effusions of its love. Hence it is that the 
Song of Solomon has been so frequently assailed, 
and has had its right to a place in the canon so 
fiercely disputed. The same critics would deny the 
piety of Eutherford, or the reverence of Herbert. 



301 



They are themselves ignorant of the divine passion 
of love to Jesus, and therefore the language of the 
enraptured heart is unintelligible to them. They 
are poor translators of love's celestial tongue who 
think it to be at all allied with the amorous super- 
fluities uttered by carnal passions. Jesus is the 
only one upon whom the loving believer has fixed 
his eye, and in his converse with his Lord he will 
often express himself in language which is meant 
only for his Master's ear, and which worldlings 
would utterly contemn could they but listen to it. 
Nevertheless love, like wisdom, " is justified of her 
children." 

Heaven itself, although it be a fertile land, flow- 
ing with milk and honey, can produce no fairer 
flower than the Hose of Sharon ; its highest joys 
mount no higher than the head of Jesus ; its 
sweetest bliss is found in his name alone. If we 
would know heaven, let us know Jesus ; if we 
would be heavenly, let us love Jesus. Oh that we 
were perpetually in his company, that our hearts 
might ever be satisfied with his love ! Let the 
young believer seek after a clear view of the per- 
son of Jesus, and then let him implore the kindling 
fire of the Holy Spirit to light up his whole soul 
with fervent affection. Love to Jesus is the basis 
of all true piety, and the intensity of this love will 
ever be the measure of our zeal for his glory. Let 
us love him with all our hearts, and then diligent 



302 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

labour and consistent conversation will be sure 
to follow. 

VII. Relationship to Christ, when fully felt 
and realised, produces a peculiar warmth of affec- 
tion towards Him. The Holy Spirit is pleased, at 
certain favoured seasons, to open up to the under- 
standing and reveal to the affections the nearness 
of Jesus to the soul. At one time we are blessed 
with a delightful sense of brotherhood with Christ. 
" The man is thy near kinsman," sounds like news 
from a far country. " In ties of blood with sinners 
one," rings in our ears like the music of Sabbath 
bells. We had said, like the spouse, " O that thou 
wert as my brother!" and lo t the wish is gratified. 
He stands before us in all his condescension, and 
declares he is not ashamed to call us brethren. 
Unveiling his face, he reveals himself as the Son 
of man, our kinsman near allied by blood. He 
manifests himself to our rejoicing spirit as " the 
first-born among many brethren," and he reminds 
us that we are "joint-heirs with him," although he 
is " heir of all things." The fraternity of Jesus 
cannot fail to quicken us to the most ardent affec- 
tion, and when he himself thus confesses the 
relationship, our soul is melted at his speech. 
That sweet name "brother" is like perfume to the 
believer, and when he lays hold upon it, it imparts 
its fragrance to him. We have sometimes had 



303 



such a sense of satisfaction in meditation upon this 
heavenly doctrine, that we counted all the honours 
and glories of this world to be but loss compared 
with the excellency of it. For this one fact of 
brotherhood with Christ we could have bartered 
crowns and empires, and have laughed at the 
worldly barterer as a fool, infinitely more mad 
than Esau when he took a pitiful mess of pottage 
as the purchase-price of a mighty birthright. God 
the Holy Ghost has made the fulness of the doc- 
trine of the relationship of Jesus roll into our soul 
like a river, and we have been entirely carried 
away in its wondrous torrent. Our thoughts have 
been entirely absorbed in the one transcendently 
glorious idea of brotherhood with Jesus, and' then 
the emotions have arisen with great vehemence, 
and we have pressed Him to our bosom, have 
wept for joy upon his shoulder, and have lost 
ourselves in adoring love of him who thus dis- 
covered himself as bone of our bone, and flesh of 
our flesh. We feel we must love our brother, even 
nature joins her voice with grace to claim the 
entire heart ; and verily, in seasons of such gracious 
manifestations, the claim is fully met, and the right 
gladly acknowledged. 

Another delightful relationship of the Lord 
Jesus is that of Husband, and here he is indeed 
to be beloved. Young Christians are married to 
Christ, but they have not in most cases realised 



304 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

the gracious privilege ; but the more enlightened 
believer rejoices in the remembrance of the mar- 
riage union of Christ and his spouse. To him the 
affection, protection, provision, honour, and inti- 
macy involved in the divine nuptials of the blessed 
Jesus with his elect are well-springs of constant 
joy. "Thy Maker is thy Husband" is to him a 
choice portion of the Word, and he feasts upon it 
day and night, when the gracious Spirit is pleased 
to enable him to lay hold upon it by faith. A 
tranquil, confident frame will immediately result 
from a satisfactory persuasion of this glorious truth, 
and with it there will be a fervency of affection 
and a continued union of heart to Christ Jesus, 
which is hardly attainable in any other manner. 

In his conjugal relation to his Church, the Lord 
Jesus takes great delight, and desires that we 
should see the glory of it. He would have us con- 
sider him in the act of betrothing and espousing 
his Church unto himself : " Go forth," saith he, 
" O ye daughters of Jerusalem, and behold King 
Solomon with the crown wherewith his mother 
crowned him in the day of his espousals, and in the 
day of the gladness of his heart." * 

" It is the gladness of the heart of Christ, and 
the joy of his soul, to take poor sinners into rela- 
tion with himself ;"f and if so, it cannot fail to be 

* Sol. Song. iii. 11. f Owen. 



love's logic. 305 

an equal source of rejoicing to those who are 
thus favoured. Meditate much on thy divine rela- 
tionships, and thine heart shall be much warmed 
thereby. 

VIII. A persuasion of our Union to Jesus must 
also stir up the passions to a holy fame. We are, 
by the decree of God, made one with our Covenant 
Head the Lord Jesus. From before all worlds this 
eternal union w r as most firmly settled upon a sub- 
stantial basis ; but our personal knowledge of it is 
a thing of time, and is vouchsafed to us in the 
appointed season by God the Holy Ghost. How 
swiftly doth the heart pursue its Lord when it has 
learned its oneness to Him ! What man w T ill not 
love his own flesh? who vrill not love himself? 
Now, when the soul perceives the indissoluble 
union which exists between itself and the Saviour, 
it can no more resist the impulse of affection than 
a man can forbear to love his own body. It is 
doubtless a high attainment in the divine life to be 
fully possessed with a sense of vital union to Christ, 
and hence the love arising from it is of a peculiarly 
rich and vehement character. Some pastures give 
richness to the flesh of the cattle which feed upon 
them : truly, this is a fat pasture, and the affection 
which feedeth upon it cannot be otherwise than 
excellent to a superlative degree. In fine, as an 
abiding sense of oneness with the Lord is one of 



306 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

the sweetest works of the Spirit in the souls of the 
elect, so the love springing therefrom is of the very 
highest and most spiritual nature. None can sur- 
pass it ; yea, it is questionable whether so high a 
degree of affection can be obtained by any other 
means, however forcible and inflaming. But set 
it down as a rule that we ought never to halt or sit 
down in any attainment of nearness to Jesus until 
we have brought it to such a measure that no more 
can be enjoyed, and until we have reached the 
utmost possible height therein. If there be an 
inner chamber in which the king doth store his 
choicest fruits, let us enter, for he bids us make free 
with all in his house ; and if there be a secret 
place where he doth show his loves, let us hasten 
thither and embrace Him whom our soul loveth, 
and there let us abide until we see him face to face 
in the upper skies. 

But what will be the love of Heaven ? Here we 
utterly fail in description or conception. The best 
enjoyments of Christ on earth are but as the dip- 
ping our finger in water for the cooling of our 
thirst ; but heaven is bathing in seas of bliss : even 
so our love here is but one drop of the same sub- 
stance as the waters of the ocean, but not compara- 
ble for magnitude or depth. Oh, how sweet it will 
be to be married to the Lord Jesus, and to enjoy 
for ever, and without any interruption, the hea- 
venly delights of his society ! Surely, if a glimpse 



love's logic. 307 

of him melteth our soul, the full fruition of him 
will be enough to burn us up with affection. It is 
well that we shall have more noble frames in hea- 
ven than we have here, otherwise we should die 
of love in the very land of life. An honoured 
saint was once so ravished with a revelation of his 
Lord's love, that feeling his mortal frame to be 
unable to sustain more of such bliss, he cried, 
" Hold, Lord, it is enough, it is enough !" But 
there we shall be able to set the bottomless well of 
love to our lips, and drink on for ever, and yet feel 
no weakness. Ah, that will be love indeed which 
shall overflow our souls for ever in our Father's 
house above ! "Who can tell the transports, the 
raptures, the amazements of delight which that 
love shall beget in us? and who can guess the 
sweetness of the song, or the swiftness of the obe- 
dience which will be the heavenly expressions of 
love made perfect? No heart can conceive the 
surpassing bliss which the saints shall enjoy when 
the sea of their love to Christ, and the ocean of 
Christ's love to them, shall meet each other and 
raise a very tempest of delight. The distant pros- 
pect is full of joy : what must be the fruition of it? 
To answer that question we must wait all the days 
of our appointed time till our change come, unless 
the Lord himself should suddenly appear in the 
clouds to glorify us with himself throughout 
eternity. 



308 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

Beloved fellow-heirs of the same inheritance, we 
have thus reviewed some of the causes and phases 
of the Christian grace of love ; let us now ask our- 
selves the question, How is it with our love ? Is it 
hot or cold ? Is it decaying or increasing ? How 
stands the heart, God- ward and Christ- ward? Is 
it not far too slow in its motions, too chilly in its 
devotion? We must admit it is so. Let us use 
the various arguments of this chapter as levers for 
lifting our heavy hearts to greater heights of affec- 
tion, and then let us unitedly cry — 

" Come, Holy Spirit, Heavenly Dove, 
With all thy quickening powers ; 
Come, shed abroad the Saviour's love, 
And that shall kindle ours." 

It may be that the sneering critic has been 
offended with all this discourse concerning love, 
and has turned upon his heel, protesting with 
vehemence that he is of a philosophic spirit, and 
will never endure such sickly sentimentalism. To 
him religion is thought, not emotion. It is a cold, 
speculative, unfeeling divinity which he believes, 
and its effects upon his mind are the reverse of 
enthusiastic. 

Reason, " heavenly Reason," is his God, and 
Feeling must lie dormant beneath -the throne of 
his great deity. We beg to remind him that the 
religion of the cross was intended to stir the soul 



309 



with deep emotion, and that where it is truly 
received it accomplishes its end ; but that if the 
passions be not moved by it, there is a strong pre- 
sumption that is has never been in true operation. 
We do not wonder that, to the man who views 
religion as a mere compendium of truths for the 
head, it is a powerless thing, for it is intended to 
work in another manner. Wine may serve to 
cheer the heart, but who would expect to feel its 
exhilarating influence by pouring it upon his head. 
The holy Gospel makes its first appeal to man's 
heart, and until it be heard in that secret chamber 
it is not heard at all. So long as mere reason is 
the only listener, the melody of the cross will be 
unheard. Charm we never so wisely, men cannot 
hear the music until the ears of the heart are 
opened. Yinet* has thus expressed himself upon 
this subject : — " Ah ! how can reason, cold reason, 
comprehend such a thing as the substitution of the 
innocent for the guilty ; as the compassion which 
reveals itself in severity of punishment in that 
shedding of blood, without which, it is said, there 
can be no expiation? It will not make, I dare 
affirm, a single step towards the knowledge of that 
divine mystery, until, casting away its ungrateful 
speculations, it yields to a stronger power the task 
of terminating the difficulty. That power is the 

* See his Vital Christianity. 



310 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUTS. 

heart, which fixes itself entirely on the love that 
shines forth in the work of redemption ; cleaves 
without distraction to the sacrifice of the adorable 
victim ; lets tiie natural impression of that unparal- 
leled love penetrate freely, and develop itself gra- 
dually in its interior. Oh, how quickly, then, are 
the veils torn away, and the shadows dissipated for 
ever ! How little difficulty does he who loves find 
in comprehending love !" To the heart all divine 
mysteries are but simplicities, and when reason is 
measuring the apparently inaccessible heights, love 
is already shouting on the summit. Let the cold, 
calculating worshipper of intellect reserve his 
sneers for himself. Experience is one of the 
highest of sciences, and the emotions claim a high 
precedence in the experience which is from God. 
That which these boasters contemn as an old wives' 
story, is not one half so contemptible as themselves 
— yea, more, the pious feelings at which they jeer 
are as much beyond their highest thoughts as the 
sonnets of angels excel the gruntings of swine. 

O OCT 

It has become fashionable to allow the title of 
"intellectual preachers" to a class of men, whose 
passionless essays are combinations of metaphysical 
quibbles and heretical doctrines ; who are shocked 
at the man who excites his hearers beyond the 
freezing-point of insensibility, and are quite elated 
if they hear that their homily could only be under- 
stood by a fe.w. It is, however, no question whe- 



love's logic. 311 

ther these men deserve their distinctive title ; it 
may be settled as an axiom that falsehood is no 
intellectual feat, and that unintelligible jargon is 
no evidence of a cultured mind. There must be 
in our religion a fair proportion of believing, think- 
ing, understanding, and discerning, but there must 
be also the preponderating influences of feeling, 
loving, delighting, and desiring. That religion is 
worth nothing which has no dwelling in man but 
his brain. To love much is to be wise ; to grow in 
affection is to grow in knowledge, and to increase 
in tender attachment is to be making high profi- 
ciency in divine things. 

Look to thy love, O Christian ! and let the car- 
nal revile thee never so much, do thou persevere 
in seeking to walk with Christ, to feel his love, 
and triumph in his grace. 



TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. 



Feiend, — This time we will not preach the 
terrors of the law to thee, although they are thy 
deserts. "We wish thee well, and if threatening 
will not awaken thee, we will try what wooing 
may accomplish, and oh ! may the Holy Spirit 
bless the means to thy soul's salvation. 

The Lord Jesus hath purchased unto himself a 
number beyond all human count, and we would 
have thee mark who and what they were by 
nature. 

The blood-bought ones, before their regenera- 
tion, were in the gall of bitterness and in the bonds 
of iniquity ; they were aliens from the common- 
wealth of Israel, and strangers from the covenants 
of promise; they had chosen to themselves other 
gods, and were joined to idols; they walked 
according to the course of this world, according to 
the Prince of the Power of the air, the spirit that 
now worketh in the children of disobedience ; they 



812 



love's logic. 313 

were ^polluted in their blood, cast out in the open 
field to perish ; they were despisers of God, in 
league with hell, and in covenant with Death ; but 
nevertheless they were chosen, were redeemed, 
and have received the glorious title of Sons and 
Daughters. 

Now, Friend, if free grace has done thus with 
one and another, why should it not accomplish the 
same for thee ? Dost thou feel thy deep necessi- 
ties ? Do thy bowels yearn for mercy ? Art thou 
made willing to be saved in God's way? Then be 
of good cheer. The promise is thine, the blood 
of Jesus was shed for thee, the Holy Spirit is at 
work witli thee, thy salvation draweth nigh. He 
that calleth upon the name of the Lord shall he 
saved. Thy cries shall yet be heard, since they 
come from a broken heart and a contrite spirit. 
Remember, faith in Jesus alone can give thee 
peace. 

But art thou still hard and stolid, still brutish 
and worldly? Then, permit the writer to weep 
over thee, and bring thy case before the Lord his 
God. Oh that the Lord would melt thee by the 
lire of his word ! Oh that he would break thee 
with his hammer, and humble thee at his feet ! 
Alas for thee, unless this be done! Oh that omni- 
potent grace would snatch thee from the ruin of 
the proud, and deliver thy feet from going down 
into the pit ! Miserable man ! a brother's heart 

14 



314 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

longeth after thee, and fain would • see thee saved. 
Oh, why art thou so indifferent to thyself when 
others can scarce refrain from tears on thy behalf! 
By thy mother's prayers, thy sister's tears, and thy 
father's anxieties, I beseech thee give a reason for 
thy sottish indifference to thine eternal welfare. 
Dost thou now come to thyself? Dost thou now 
exclaim, " I will arise and go unto rny Father?" 
Oh, be assured of a welcome reception, of glad- 
some entertainment, and loving acceptance. 

" From the Mount of Calvary, 
Where the Saviour deigned to die, - 
What melodious sounds I hear, 
Bursting on my ravished ear! — 
Love's redeeming work is done ! 
Come, and welcome, sinner, come. 

" Now behold the festal board, 
With its richest dainties stored ; 
To thy Father's bosom press'd, 
Once again a child confess'd. 
From his house no more to roam ; 
Come, and welcome, sinner, comx." 



IX. 

JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE 



44 Who passing through the valley of Baca make it a well ; the 
rain also filleth the pools." — Ps. Ixxxiv. 6. 



Pilgrimage to an appointed shrine seems to be 
an essential part of most religions. The tribes of 
Israel made yearly journeys to Jerusalem, that at 
one great altar they might sacrifice unto the Lord 
their God. . Borrowing the idea, probably, from 
the Jews, we find false religions inculcating the 
same. The disciples of Brahma are required to 
undertake long and painful journeys to the temple 
of Juggernaut, or to the banks of their sacred 
river, the Ganges. The Mahometan has his Kebla 
of worship ; and, if he be thoroughly a devout 
follower of the false prophet, he must, once in his 
lire, offer his petitions at Mecca. And who has 
not heard of the palmer plodding his weary way 
to the Holy Sepulchre, or of the Canterbur / pil- 
grim going to the tomb of Thomas a Becket 1 



sis 



316 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

But the religion of God, the revelation of our 
most merciful Father, does not thus deal with man. 
It prescribes no earthly pilgrimage. It knows 
nothing of local restrictions. It declares that 
" neither in this mountain nor yet at Jerusalem 
shall men worship the Father ;" that " God is a 
spirit," everywhere present, and as a spirit " must 
be worshipped," not merely by outward acts, but 
in spirit and in truth." 

Yet " pilgrimage " is one of the leading ideas of 
Christianity. Every Christian is mystically a pil- 
grim. His rest is not here. He is not a citizen 
of earth. Here he has no abiding city. He jour- 
neys to a shrine unseen by mortal eye, whither his 
fathers have arrived. This life-journey is his one 
incessant occupation. He came into the world 
that he might march through it in haste. He is 
ever a pilgrim, in the fullest and truest sense. 

Nothing can be more pleasing to a thoughtful 
Christian than marking the footsteps of the flock, 
and tracing the track they have left in the blood- 
besprinkled way. Thus the geography of Christian 
life becomes an interesting study. To enter the 
wicket-gate, to sit in the arbour on the hill-side, to 
lie in the chamber of peace in the House Beautiful, 
to stand on the Delectable Mountains, or walk 
among the spice beds of the land Beulah, yields 
far sweeter pleasure than fairy dreams, or tales 
coloured by fancy, whispered by the lips of music. 



JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 317 

There are many fair and enchanting spots in the 
highway of salvation — spots which angels have 
visited, and which the saints have sighed to behold 
again and again. But some other parts of the way 
are not so inviting; we love not to enter the Yalley 
of the Shadow of Death, nor to approach the moun- 
tains of the leopards, nor the lions' dens, yet must 
all of them be passed. 

It is a precious mercy that Jesus, the heavenly 
Friend, is willing and able to accompany us in all 
our journeyings, and is the consolation of our souls 
in periods of blackest woe. After surveying the 
Valley of Baca, noticing the toilsome effort of the 
pilgrims in digging wells therein, and remarking 
the heavenly supply with which the pools are filled, 
we shall consider the grace of our Lord Jesus as 
exhibited to his people in their sorrowful passage 
through this Yale of Tears. 

I. The Valley of Baca. The best description 
given of the Yalley of Baca seems to be, that it 
was a defile through which a portion of the tribes 
had to pass on their journey to the city of their 
solemnities. It was a place noted for its dryness, 
and therefore pits were digged therein for the pur- 
pose of holding rain-water for the thirsty wayfarers 
as they passed through it. But, probably, the 
Psalmist looked not so much at the place as at 
its name, which signifies "Yalley of Sorrow, or 



318 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

Tears." The Septuagint translates it, " Yalley of 
Lamentation," and the Latin Yulgate, "Yale of 
Tears." We may therefore read the verse thus : — 
" Who passing through the vale of Tears make it a 
well," &c. Of this valley we may observe, first, 
It is much frequented. The way to Zion lies 
through its glooms. Many of God's chosen ones 
are carried from the breast to glory, and thus 
escape this dreary place, but all the rest of God's 
children must pass through it. Frequent are their 
sojourning in this " house of mourning." Not once 
nor twice, but many a time must they tread this 
valley. As numerous as their da\ ? s are the causes 
of their griefs. The molestations of disease, the 
disappointments of business, the losses of adversity, 
and the havocs of death, combining with a thousand 
other ills, furnish enough material for the much 
tribulation through which we inherit the kingdom. 
All men have their times of sadness, but some 
seem to be always in the deep waters — their lives, 
like Ezekiel's roll, seem written within and with- 
out with lamentations. They can just dimly recol- 
lect happier days, but those are past long ago. 
They have for some time been the children of 
grief. They seldom eat a crust unmoistened by a 
tear. Sorrow's wormwood is their daily salad. 
Perhaps some sudden calamity has snatched away 
the gourd which covered their head, and, Jonah- 
like, they think they do well to be angry even unto 



JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 319 

death. A haze, dark and heavy, hangs like a pall 
before their eyes, and clothes life's scenery with 
sadness and gloom. Some are associated with 
ungodly partners, by whose unkindness their days 
are made bitter, and their lives a burden. Various 
are the causes of grief. The chains of melancholy 
differ in their size and material. Bound in afflic- 
tion and iron, art thou saying, "He hath made my 
chain heavy ?" Oh, child of grief, remember the 
vale of tears is much frequented ; thou art not 
alone in thy distress. Sorrow has a numerous 
family. Say not, I am the man that has seen 
affliction, for there be others in the furnace with 
thee. Remember, moreover, the King of kings 
once went through this valley, and here he 
obtained his name, " the Man of sorrows," for it 
was while passing through it he became "acquaint- 
ed with grief." 

But, blessed be God, all his people are not thus 
clad in sackcloth and filled with bitterness. Some 
of them can sing for joy of heart, and, like the 
lark, rise to heaven's gates, carolling notes of 
praise. Yet, be it observed, there is not one who 
has not had his valley of Baca. He of flashing eye 
and cheerful countenance was once walking in its 
dark and dreary paths. He who danced before 
the ark had cried out of the depths unto the Lord. 
He whom you heard in prayer, with free heart 
blessing his Maker, was lately in his bed-chamber, 
crying out with Job, " O that my grief were 



320 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

weighed !" and with Jeremiah, " He hath filled 
me with bitterness, and made me drunken with 
wormwood." 

Oh, mourner, say not that thou art a target for 
all the arrows of the Almighty ; take not to thyself 
the pre-eminence of woe; for thy fellows have 
trodden the valley too, and upon them are the 
scars of the thorns and briars of the dreary path- 
way. 

Secondly, this valley is exceedingly unpleasant 
to flesh and blood. We love to ascend the moun- 
tains of myrrh and hills of frankincense, rather 
than to descend into this dismal region. For tri- 
bulation is not joyous but grievous. Disguise sor- 
row as we may, it is sorrow still. No pilgrim ever 
wished to enter here for its own sake, though there 
have been many who have rejoiced in the midst 
of its darkest and most gloomy paths. Now, let 
us briefly consider why this valley is so unpleasant 
to heaven-bound travellers. It is so because we 
can find no rivers of water in it. Earthly joys are 
continually failing us ; and created cisterns, one 
after another, are dried up. A hot, dry wind 
steals away every drop of comfort, and, hungry and 
thirsty, our soul fainteth in us. No fruit of sweet- 
ness grows here. It well answers the description 
of Watts :— 

" Its yields us no supply, 
No cheering fruits, no wholesome trees, 
Nor streams of living joy." 



JESUS m THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 321 

Many rich mercies are here received by pilgrims, 
but these are not the fruits of the place itself, but 
the gifts of heaven. It is, moreover, disagreeable 
travelling in this valley, because the way is rough 
and rugged. In some parts of the Christian jour- 
ney we are led into green pastures beside the still 
waters ; but this valley is thorny, stony, and flinty, 
and every way uncomfortable. True, there are 
many labourers, called promises, ever at work 
breaking the stones, and helping passengers over 
its more difficult places ; but notwithstanding this 
aid, journeying through it is very rough work for 
all, but especially for those pilgrims who are weak, 
and ready to halt. It is also frequently very dark. 
The vale of tears is very low, and descends far be- 
neath the ordinary level ; some parts of it, indeed, 
are tunnelled through rocks of anguish. A fre- 
quent cause of its darkness is that on either side 
of the valley there are high mountains, called the 
mountains of sin. These rise so high that they 
obscure the light of the sun. Behind these Andes 
of guilt God hides his face, and we are troubled. 
Then how densely dark the pathway becomes ! 
Indeed, this is the very worst thing that can be 
mentioned of this valley : for, if it were not so 
dark, pilgrims would not so much dread passing 
through it. 

The soul of the traveller is also often discouraged 
on account of the length of the way. Through the 

14* 



322 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

darkness of the place it seems as though it had no 
termination, for, although it is known that the dark 
river of death flows across its extremity, but, in 
the night season, the celestial city on the other 
side cannot be seen. This is the Egyptian dark- 
ness which may be felt, and, like solid piles of 
ebony, at such times it appears to have an ada- 
mantine hardness in it. Besides, this valley is 
much haunted. Evil spirits are very common in 
it. When a man is in the valley of Baca, Satan 
will soon be at him with his fiery darts, cursed 
insinuations, and blasphemous suggestions. Like 
the bandit, he waylays us in the roughest and 
darkest part of our way. This much deepens the 
horror of the place. 

Thirdly, this valley is very healthful. In all the 
King's dominions, save alone the royal pavilion in 
glory, there is no spot more conducive to the soul's 
health than this. The air from the sea of affliction 
is extremely beneficial to invalid Christians. Con- 
tinued prosperity, like a warm atmosphere, has a 
tendency to unbind the sinews and soften the 
bones; but the cold winds of trouble make us 
sturdy, hardy, and well braced in every part. Un- 
broken success often leads to an undervaluing of 
mercies and forgetfulness of the giver; but the 
withdrawal of the sunshine leads us to look for the 
sun. 

Fourthly, it is a very safe place. We are not so 



JESUS IN THE HO UK OF TKOTTBLE. 323 

likely to stumble in rough ways as in smooth and 
slippery places. Better walk on rugged rocks than 
on slippery ice. If we lose our roll it is in the 
harbour of ease, not in the valley of Baca. Few 
Christians backslide while under the rod ; it is 
usually when on the lap of plenty that believers 
sin. 

Fifthly, it is, therefore, a profitable place. Stars 
may be seen from the bottom of a deep well when 
they cannot be discerned from the top of a moun- 
tain: so are many things learned in adversity 
which the prosperous man dreams not of. We 
need affliction as the trees need winter, that we 
may collect sap and nourishment for future blos- 
soms and fruit. Sorrow is as necessary for the soul 
as medicine is to the body : — 

" The path of sorrow, and that path alone, 
Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown." 

The benefits to be derived in the vale of tears are 
greater than its horrors, and far outnumber its dis- 
advantages. There was a fiction once of a golden 
cup at the foot of the rainbow : it would have been 
no fiction had they put the treasure in the dark 
cloud. In this valley of Baca there are mines of 
gold and of all manner of precious things ; and 
sometimes, even in the thick darkness, one may 
perceive the diamonds glitter. Full many a pil- 
grim has here been made rich to all the intents of 



324: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

bliss, and here have others had their heavenly 
wealth most marvellously increased. 
But we proceed to observe — 

II. The Toilsome Effort spoken of in the words 
at the head of the chapter — " They make it a 
well," <fcc. When Eastern Shepherds travel, if 
they find no water, they dig a well, and thus 
obtain a plentiful supply of water for themselves 
and for their cattle. So did Isaac, and so also did 
the rulers for the people in the wilderness. When 
we are thirsty and there is no water to be found in 
the pools, we must dig deep for it. Calvin trans- 
lates it — " They, travelling through the valley of 
weeping, will dig a well," &c. This teaches us 
that — 

1. Comfort may be obtained even in the deepest 
trouble. We often look for it and fancy there is 
none. Like Hagar, the child of our hope is given 
up, and we lay down to die ; but why should we, 
when there is water to be had, if we will but seek 
for it ? Let no man say, My case is hopeless ; let 
none say, I am in the valley, and can never again 
know joy. There is hope. There is the water of 
life to cheer our fainting souls. It certainly is not 
possible for us to be in a position where Omnipo- 
tence cannot assist us. God hath servants every- 
where, and where we think he has none his word 
can create a multitude. There are " treasures hid 



JESUS m THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 325 

in the sand,"* and the Lord's chosen shall eat 
thereof. When the clouds hide the mountains they 
are as real as in the sunshine ; so the promise and 
the providence of God are unchanged by the 
obscurity of our faith, or the difficulties of our posi- 
tion. There is hope, and hope at hand, therefore, 
let us be of good cheer. 

2. It teaches that comfort must he obtained by 
exertion. Well-digging is hard labour : but better 
dig for water than die of thirst. Much of the 
misery Christians feel arises from inaction. Cold 
numbs the hand if exercise be not used. We are 
bound to use every scriptural means to obtain the 
good we need. The sanctuary, the meeting for 
prayer, the Bible, the company of the saints, pri- 
vate prayer and meditation — these revive the soul. 
We must dig the wells. If there be rocky granite 
we must bore it; we must not be disturbed 
from perseverance by the labour of our duties, 
but continue to dig still : and what a mercy ! 

if the well has ever so small a bore the water will 
flow. 

3. It teaches us that the comfort obtained by 
one is often of use to another ; just as wells opened 
by former travellers would suffice for the company 
which came after. When we read works full of 
consolation, like Jonathan's rod, dropping with 

* Deut. xxxiii. 19. 



326 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVI0UK. 

honey, let us remember that our brother has been 
here before us, and digged this well. " Songs in 
the Night," could only have been written by that 
nightingale in the thorns, Susanna Harrison. 
Many a " Night of Weeping," " Midnight Harmo- 
nies," an " Eternal Day," " A Crook in the Lot," 
a " Comfort for Mourners," has been a well digged 
by a pilgrim for himself, but has proved just as 
useful to others. Specially we notice this in the 
Psalms, which console us, although they were 
mournful odes to David. Travellers have been 
delighted to see the footprints of man on a barren 
shore, and we love to see the way-marks of the pil- 
grimage while passing through the vale of tears. 
Yea, the refuse and debris of the receding camp 
often furnish food for the stragglers behind. We 
may notice- 
Ill. The Heavenly Supply. The pilgrims dig 
the well, but, strange enough, it fills from the top 
instead of the bottom. We use the means, but the 
blessing does not lie in the means, but in the God 
of the means. We dig the well, but heaven fills it 
with rain. The horse is prepared against the day 
of battle, but salvation is of the Lord. The means 
are divinely connected with the end, but they do 
not produce the blessing. " The rain filleth the 
pools," so that ordinances and duties are rather 
reservoirs than fountains, containing comfort, but 



JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 327 

not creating it. In vain are all the ordinances 
without the divine blessing ; as clouds without 
rain, and pools without water, they yield us no 
supplies. When heaven smiles and pours down 
its showers of grace, then they are precious 
things ; but without the celestial rain we might 
as much expect water from the arid waste, as 
a real blessing in the use of them. " All my 
springs are in Thee," is the believer's daily con- 
fession to his Lord — a confession which until death 
must ever be upon his lips. 

We now turn to our legitimate subject, from 
which the beauty of the text has for a while allured 
us, and we hasten to answer the question, How 
doth Jesus behave himself toward his people in the 
hour of their distresses ? Does he leave them when 
their friends are taken from them ! Does he 
desert them in the hour of their poverty ? Is he 
ashamed of them when sackcloth is on their 
loins, and ashes upon their heads ? Do the pains 
of Sickness affright him from the bed ? Can famine 
and nakedness separate his brethren from his 
love ? Is he the same yesterday, to-day, and 
for ever? Our answer shall be one dictated by 
the experience of the saints, and confirmed in the 
life of the Christian reader. The Lord Jesus is 
no fair-weather friend, but one who loveth at 
all times — a brother born for adversity. This he 
proves to his beloved, not by mere words of pro- 



328 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUE. 

rnise, but by actual deeds of affection. As our 
sufferings abound, so he makes our consolations 
to abound. This he does by divers' choice acts 
of love. 

1. He affords the tried saint clearer manifesta- 
tions of himself than usual. When he draws the 
curtain around the believer on the bed of sickness, 
he usually withdraws the curtain wherewith he 
conceals himself. He approaches nearer to the 
soul in its tribulation, even as the sun is said to be 
nearer to the earth in the time of winter. He 
sheds a clear light on his promise when he robes 
his providence in darkness ; and if both are alike 
clouded, he reveals himself the more manifestly. 
Affliction has often proved to be a presence-cham- 
ber, in which the King of Heaven gives audience 
to his unworthy subjects. As Isaac met his bride 
in the fields at eventide, so do true souls frequently 
find their joy and consolation in the loneliness of 
solitude, and at the sunset of their earthly plea- 
sures. He who would see the stars sparkling with 
tenfold lustre must dwell in the cold regions of 
snow ; and he who would know the full beauties 
of Jesus, the bright and morning star, must see 
him amid the frosts of trouble and adversity. 
Affliction is often the hand of God, which he 
places before our face to enable us, like Moses, to 
see the train of his glory as he passes by. The 
saint has had many a pleasant view of God's 



JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 329 

loving kindness from the top of the hills of mercy ; 
but tribulation is very frequently the Lord's 
Pisgah, from which he gives them a view of the 
land in all its length and breadth. 

Mr. Henwick, the last of the Scottish martyrs, 
speaking of his sufferings for conscience' sake, 
says : " Enemies think themselves satisfied that we 
are put to wander in mosses, and upon mountains ; 
but even amidst the storms of these last two 
nights, I cannot express what sweet times I have 
had, when I had no covering but the dark curtains 
of night. Yea, in the silent watch, my mind was 
led out to admire the deep and inexpressible 
ocean of joy wherein the whole family of heaven 
swim. Each star led me to wonder what He must 
be who is the star of Jacob, of whom all stars 
borrow their shining." 

This one testimony is the type of many; it is 
an exhibition of the great rule of the kingdom — 
" When thou passest through the rivers, I w T ill be 
with thee." 

Choice discoveries of the wondrous love and 
grace of Jesus are most tenderly vouchsafed unto 
believers in the times of grief. Then it is that he 
lifts them up from his feet, where, like Mary, it is 
their delight to sit, and exalts them to the position 
of the favoured John, pressing them to his breast 
and bidding them lean on his bosom. Then it is 
that he doth fill the cup of salvation with the old 



330 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

wine of the kingdom, and puts it to the month of 
the Christian, that he may in some measure forget 
the flavour of wormwood and grating of gravel- 
stones which the draught of bitterness has placed 
upon his palate and between his teeth. If Christ 
is more excellent at one time than another it cer 
tainly is in " the cloudy and dark day." "We can 
never so well see the true colour of Christ's love as 
in the night of weeping. Christ in the dungeon, 
Christ on the bed of sickness, Christ in poverty, is 
Christ indeed to a sanctified man. No vision of 
Christ Jesus is so truly a revelation as that which is 
seen in the Parmos of suffering. As in time of war 
the city doubles its guards, so does Jesus multiply 
the disphvvs of his affection when his chosen are 
besieged by trials. When Habakuk's belly trem- 
bled, and his lips quivered, and rottenness entered 
into his bones, when all his earthly hopes were 
blasted, and his comforts removed, he had such an 
overcoming sense of the presence of God that he 
exclaimed in the midst of all his sorrows, " Yet 
will I rejoice in the Lord, and joy in the God of 
my salvation." Among the family of God none 
are so well versed in the knowledge of Christ's 
love as those who have been long in the chamber 
of affliction. What marvellous things have these 
seen, and what secrets have they heard ? They 
have kissed the lips which others have but heard 
at a distance ; they have pressed their heads upon 



JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 331 

the breast which others have but seen with their 
eyes ; and they have been embraced in the arms 
into which others have but desired to climb. Give 
us the Christ of affliction, for he is Christ indeed. 

2. As under sanctified affliction the manifesta- 
tions of Christ are more clear, so are his visitations 
more frequent. If he pay us a daily visit when we 
are in our high estate, he will be wirh us hourly 
when we are cast down from our high places. As 
the sick child hath the most of the mother's eye, so 
doth the afflicted believer receive the most of his 
Saviour's attention, for like as a mother comforteth 
her children, even so doth the Lord comfort his peo- 
ple. Pious Brooks writes, " Oh, the love-tokens, the 
love-letters, the bracelets, the jewels that the saints 
are able to produce since they have been in the fur- 
nace of affliction !" Of these they had but one in 
a season before, but now that their troubles have 
driven them nearer to their Saviour, they have 
enough to store their cabinet. Now they can truly 
say, " How precious also are thy thoughts unto 
me, O God ! how great is the sum of them !" 
Mercies before came so constantly that memory 
could not compute their number; but now they 
appear to come in wave after wave, without a 
moment's cessation. Happy is the man who finds 
the furnace as hot with love as with affliction. Let 
the tried believer look for increased privileges, and 
his faithful Lord will not deceive his expectations. 



332 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

He who rides upon the storm when it is tossing 
the ocean, will not be absent when it is beating 
about his saints. " The Lord of hosts is with us," 
is not the song of them that make merry in the 
dance, but of those who are struggling in battle. 
" David, doubtless, had worse devils than we, for 
without great tribulations he could not have had 
so great and glorious revelations. David made 
psalms ; "we also will make psalms, and sing, as 
well as we can, to the honour of our Lord God, 
and to spite and mock the devil." * Surely, it 
would be lon^ before our " son^s of deliverance " 
would end, if we were mindful of the manifold 
tokens for good which our glorious Lord vouch- 
safes us in the hour of sadness. How doth he 
waken us morning by morning with the turtle 
voice of love ; and how doth he lull us to oui 
evening repose with notes of kind compassion ! 
Each hour brings favours on its wings. He is now 
become an abiding companion, that while we tarry 
with the stuff we share in the spoii.f Oh, sweet 
trouble, which brings Jesus nearer to us ! Amic 
tion is the black chariot of Christ, in which he 
rideth to his children. Welcome, shades that 
herald or accompany our Lord ! 

3. In trying times the compassion and sympathy 
of Jesus become more delightfully the subject of 

* Luther, in his Table-talk. \ 1 Sam. xsx. 24 



JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 333 

faith and experience. He ever feels the woes of 
all the members of his mystical body ; in all their 
afflictions he is afflicted, for he is touched with 
a feeling of our infirmities. This golden truth 
becomes most precious to the soul, when, in the 
midst of losses and crosses, by the Holy Spirit's 
influence, the power of it is felt in the soul. A 
confident belief in the fact that Jesus is not an 
unconcerned spectator of our tribulation, and a 
confident assurance that he is in the furnace with 
us, will furnish a downy pillow for our aching 
head. When the hours limp tardily along, how 
sweet to reflect that he has felt the weariness of 
time when sorrows multiplied ! When the spirit. 
is wounded by reproach and slander, how comfort- 
ing to remember that he also once said, "Reproach, 
has broken mine heart 1" And, above all, how 
abundantly full of consolation is the thought that 
now, even now, he feels for us, and is a living 
head, sympathising in every pang of his wounded 
body. The certainty that Jesus knows and feels all 
that we endure, is one of the dainties with which 
afflicted souls are comforted. More especially is 
this a cheering thought when our good is evil 
spoken of, our motives misrepresented, and our zeal 
condemned. Then, in absence of all other balms, 
this acts as a sovereign remedy for decay of spirit. 
Give us Christ with us, and we can afford to smile 
in the face of our foes. 



33i THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

" As to appreciation and sympathy, we do not 
depend for these on fellow-worms. We can be 
content to be unappreciated here, so long as Christ 
understands us, and has a fellow-feeling for ns. 
It is for him we labour. One of his smiles out- 
weighs all other commendation. To him we look 
for our reward; and oh! is it not enough that 
he has promised it at his coming ? It will not be 
long to wait. Do our hearts crave human fellow- 
ship and sympathy? We surely have it in our 
great High Priest. Oh, how often should we faint 
but for the humanity of our divine Redeemer! 
He is bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh ; yet 
he has an almighty arm for our deliverance — 
human to feel, divine to aid ; faithful over all oui 
failures and imperfections. What need we more ?" * 
We may fancy we want some other encourage- 
ment, but if we know the value of the sympathy of 
Christ we shall soon find it all-sufficient. We shall 
think Christ alone to be enough to make a list 
of friends. The orator spake on so long as Plato 
listened, thinking one wise man enough audience 
for him ; let us labour on, and hope on, if Jesus be 
our only helper. Let us, in all time of our tribula- 
tion and affliction, content ourselves with one Com- 
forter, if all others fail us. Job had three mise- 
rable comforters ; better far to have one who is full 

* Vide Shady Side, by a Pastor's Wife. 



JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 335 

of pity and able to console. And who can do this 
so truly as our own most loving Lord Jesus ? 
Moreover, it is not only true that he can do it, but 
he actually does do it, and that in no small degree, 
by making apparent the motions of his own heart. 
He bids us see his breast, as it heaves in unison 
with ours, and he invites us to read his heart, to see 
if the ^aine lines of suffering be not written there. 

" I feel at my heart all thy sighs and thy groans, 
For thou art most near me, my flesh and my bones; 
In all thy distresses thy Head feels the pain, 
They all are most needful, not one is in vain." 

Thus doth he gently assuage the floods of our swell- 
ing grief. 

4. The Lord Jesus is graciously pleased in many 
cases to give his afflicted saints an unusual insight 
into the deep things of his word, and an unwonted 
relish in meditation upon them. Our losses fre- 
quently act toward us as if they had cleared our 
eyes ; at any rate, sickness and sorrow have often 
been the fingers of Jesus, with which he applied 
the salve of illuminating grace. Either the under- 
standing is more than ordinarily enlarged, or else 
the promises are more simply opened up and 
explained by the Holy Spirit. Who has not 
observed the supernatural wisdom of the h>ng 
afflicted saint ? Who has not known the fact that 
the school of sanctified sorrow is that in which are 
to be found the ripest scholars ? 



336 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

"We learn more true divinity by our trials than 
by our books. The great Reformer said, " Prayer 
is the best book in my library." He might have 
added affliction as the next. Sickness is the best 
Doctor of Divinity in all the world ; and trial is 
the finest exposition of Scripture. This is so inesti- 
mable a mark of the love of our blessed Lord that 
we might almost desire trouble for the sake of it. 
This proves him to be wise in his hardest dealings 
towards us. and therefore supremely kind ; for is it 
not kindness which puts us to a little trouble for 
the sake of an immense advantage, and doth, as it 
were, take our money out of our coffers at home 
that it may return again with mighty interest ? 
Jesus is a friend indeed ! 

5. If the presence of Jesus oe not felt and 
realised, he nevertheless sustains the soul by a secret 
and unseen energy which he imparts to the spirit. 
Jesus is not always absent when he is unseen ; but, 
on the contrary, he is frequently near to us when 
we have no assurance of his presence. Many times 
the man who pours oil upon the flame of our com- 
fort to prevent the quenching of the enemy, is 
behind the wall, where we cannot perceive him.* 
The Lord hath a heart which is ever fall of affec- 
tion towards his elect, and when he seems to leave 
them he is still sustainino; them. Patience under 
withdrawals of his sensible presence is a sure sign 

* See Parable in Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. 



JESUS IN THE HO UK OF TROUBLE. 337 

of his real, though, secret presence, in the soul. A 
blind man is really nourished by the food he eats, 
even though he cannot see it ; so, when by the 
blindness of our spiritual vision, we are unable 
to discern the Saviour, yet his grace sustains our 
strength and keeps us alive in famine. The intense 
desire after Jesus, the struggling of the soul with 
doubts and fears, and the inward panting of the 
whole being after the living God, prove beyond 
a doubt that Jesus is at work in the soul, though 
he may be concealed from the eye of faith. How 
should it, therefore, be a matter of wonder that 
secretly he should be able to afford support to the 
sinking saint, even at seasons when his absence 
is bemoaned with lamentations and tears ? " The 
real gracious influences and effects of his favour 
may be continued, upholding, strengthening, and 
carrying on the soul still to obey and fear God, 
whilst he yet conceals his favour ; for when Christ 
complained, My God, my God, why hast t/wufo? 1 - 
sdken me f (when as great an eclipse in regard of 
the light of God's countenance was upon his spirit, 
as was upon the earth in regard to the sun) yet he 
never more obeyed God, was never more strongly 
supported than at that time, for then he w T as obey- 
ing to the death" * God's favour most assuredly 
rests on his children's hearts and strengthens their 

* Goodwin's Child of Light, &c, 

15 



338 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

spirits, when the light and comfort of it are phut 
out from their perceptions. Christ puts his chil- 
dren upon his lap, and healeth their wounds when, 
by reason of their swooning condition, they feel not 
his hand, and see not his smile. It is said, " All is 
not gold that glitters ;'' certainly, we may alter the 
proverb, for it is true spiritually that all gold does 
not glitter ; but this dimness does not affect its 
intrinsic worth and value. 

The old theologians used to say, " Grace may be 
in the heart in esse et operari, when not in cognosci f 
it may have a being and a working there when not 
in thy apprehension." Let us praise our bounteous 
Lord for unseen favours, and let us love our Lord 
Jesus for his mercies imparted in silence, unob- 
served. 

6. After long seasons of depression Jesus becomes 
sweetly the consolation of Israel by removing our 
load in a manner at once singularly felicitous and 
marvellously efficacious. It may be that the nature 
or design of the trial prevents us from enjoying 
any comfortable sense of our Lord's love during 
the time of its endurance ; in such cases the grace 
of our Lord Jesus discovers itself in the hour of 
our escape. If we do not see our Lord in the pri- 
son, we shall meet him on the threshold in that 
day which shall see him break the gates of brass 
and cut the bars of iron in sunder. Marvellous 
are his works in the day wherein he brings us out 



JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 339 

of the house of bondage. Halyburton, after escape 
from a clonld and desertion, thus broke silence to 
a friend — " Oh, what a terrible conflict had I yes- 
terday ! but now I can say i I have fought the 
good fight ; I have kept the faith.' Now he has 
filled my mouth with a new song, l Jehovah Jireh 
■ — in the mount of the Lord.' Praise, praise is 
comely to the upright. Shortly I shall get a bet- 
ter sight of God than ever I have had, and be 
more meet to praise him than ever. Oh, the 
thoughts of an incarnate God are sweet and 
ravishing ! And oh, how do I wonder at myself 
that I do not love him more — that I do not admire 
him more. Oh, that I could honour him ! What 
a wonder that I enjoy such composure under all 
my bodily troubles ! Oh, what a mercy that I 
have the use of my reason till I have declared his 
goodness to me !" Thus it seems that the sun is 
all the brighter for having been awhile hidden 
from us. And here the reader must pardon the 
writer if he introduces a personal narrative, which 
is to him a most memorable proof of the loving- 
kindness of the Lord. Such an opportunity of 
recording my Lord's goodness may never occur 
again to me ; and therefore now, while my soul is 
warm with gratitude for so recent a deliverance, 
let me lay aside the language of an author, and 
speak for myself, as I should tell the story to my 
friends in conversation. It may be egotism to 



34:0 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

weave one's own sorrows into the warp and woof 
of this meditation ; but if the heart prompts the 
act, and the motions of the Holy Spirit are not 
contrary thereto, I think I may venture for this 
once to raise an Ebenezer in public, and rehearse 
the praise of Jesus at the setting up thereof. Egot- 
ism is not so frightful a thing as ungraceful silence; 
certainly it is not more contemptible than mock 
humility. Right or wrong, here followeth my 
story. 

On a night which time will never erase from 
my memory, large numbers of my congregation 
were scattered, many of them wounded and some 
killed, by the malicious act of wicked men. Strong 
amid danger, I battled the storm, nor did my spirit 
yield to the overwhelming pressure while my 
courage could reassure the wavering or confirm 
the bold. But when, like a whirlwind, the destruc- 
tion had overpast, when the whole of its devasta- 
tion was visible to my eye, who can conceive the 
anguish of my spirit? I refused to be comforted, 
tears were my meat by day, and dreams my terror 
by night. 1 felt as I had never felt before. u My 
thoughts were all a case of knives," cutting my 
heart in pieces, until a kind of stupor of grief 
ministered a mournful medicine to me. I could 
have truly said, " I am not mad, but surely I have 
had enough to madden me, if I should indulge in 
meditation on it." I sought and found a solitude 



JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE 341 

which seemed congenial to me. I could tell my 
griefs to the flowers, and the dews could weep 
with me. Here my mind lay, like a wreck upon 
the sand, incapable of its usual motion. I was in 
a strange land, and a stranger in it. My Bible, 
once my daily food, was but a hand to lift the 
sluices of my woe. Prayer yielded no balm to me ; 
in fact, my soul was like an infant's soul, and I 
could not rise to the dignity of supplication. 
" Broken in pieces all asunder," my thoughts, 
which had been to me like a cup of delights, were 
like pieces of broken glass, the piercing and cut- 
ting miseries of my pilgrimage : — 

" The tumult of my thoughts 

Doth but enlarge my woe ; 
My spirit languishes, my heart 

Is desolate and low. 
With every morning light 

My sorrow new begins : 
Look on my anguish and my pain, 

And pardon all my sins." 

Then came " the slander of many ''—barefaced 
fabrications, libellous slanders, and barbarous accu- 
sations. These alone might have scooped out the 
last drop of consolation from my cup of happiness, 
but the worst had come to the worst, and the 
utmost malice of the enemy could do no more. 
Lower they cannot sink who are already in the 
nethermost" depths. Misery itself is the guardian 



34:2 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

ot the miserable. All tilings combined to keep me 
for a season in the darkness where neither sun nor 
moon appeared. I had hoped for a gradual return 
to peaceful consciousness, and patiently did I wait 
for the dawning light. But it came not as I had 
desired, for He who doeth for us exceeding abun- 
dantly above what we can ask or think, sent me a 
happier answer to my requests. I had striven to 
think of the unmeasurable love of Jehovah, as dis- 
played in the sacrifice of Calvary ; I had endea- 
voured to muse upon the glorious character of the 
exalted Jesus ; but I found it impossible to collect 
my thoughts in the quiver of meditation, or, indeed, 
to place them anywhere but with their points in 
my wounded spirit, or else at my feet, trodden 
down in an almost childish thoughtlessness. On a 
sudden, like a flash of lightning from the sky, my 
soul returned unto me. The burning lava of my 
brain cooled in an instant. The throbbings of my 
brow were still ; the cool wind of comfort fanned 
my cheek, which had been scorched in the fur- 
nace. I was free, the iron fetter was broken in 
pieces, my prison door was open, I leaped for joy 
of heart. On wings of a dove my spirit mounted 
to the stars — yea, beyond them. Whither did it 
wing its flight? and where did it sing its song of 
gratitude ? It was at the feet of Jesus, whose 
name had charmed its fears, and placed an end to 
its mourning. The name — the precious name of 



JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 34:3 

Jesus, was like Ithuriel's spear, bringing back my 
soul to its own right and happy state. I was a 
man again, and what is more, a believer. The 
garden in which I stood became an Eden to me, 
and the spot was then most solemnly consecrated 
in my most grateful memory. Happy hour. 
Thrice blessed Lord, who thus in an instant deliv- 
ered me from the rock of my despair, and slew the 
vulture of my grief! Before I told to others the 
glad news of my recovery, my heart was melodious 
with song, and my tongue endeavoured tardily to 
express the music. Then did I give to my Well- 
Beloved a song touching my Well-Beloved ; and 
oh ! with what rapture did my soul flash forth its 
praises ! but all — all were to the honour of Him, 
the first and the last, the Brother born for adver- 
sity, the Deliverer of the captive, the Breaker of 
my fetters, the Restorer of my soul. Then did I 
cast my burden upon the Lord ; I left my ashes 
and did array myself in the garments of praise, 
while He did anoint me with fresh oil. I could 
have riven the very firmament to get at Him, to 
cast myself at his feet, and lie there bathed in the 
tears of joy and love. Never since the day of my 
conversion had I known so much of his infinite 
excellence, never had my spirit leaped with such 
unutterable delight. Scorn, tumult, and woe 
seemed less than nothing for his sake. I girded 
up my loins to run before his chariot, and shout 



344 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR, 

forth his glory, for my soul was absorbed in the 
one idea of his glorious exaltation and divine com- 
passion. 

After a declaration of the exceeding grace of 
God towards me, made to my dearest kindred and 
friends, I essayed again to preach. The task which 
I had dreaded to perform was another means of 
comfort, and I can truly declare that the words of 
that morning were as much the utterance of my 
inner man as if I had been standing before the bar 
of God. The text selected runs thus — " Wherefore 
God also hath highly exalted Him, and given him 
a name which is above every name : that at the 
name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in 
heaven, and things in earth, and tilings under the 
earth ; and that every tongue should confess that 
Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the 
Father." * Hay I trouble the reader with some of 
the utterances of the morning, for they were the 
un veilings of my own experience. 

When the mind is intensely set upon one object, 
however much it may by divers calamities be 
tossed to and fro, it invariably returns to the place 
which it had chosen to be its dwelling place. Ye 
have noticed it in the case of David. When the 
battle had been won by his warriors, they returned 
flushed with victory. David's mind had doubtless 

* Phil. ii. 9—11. 



JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 345 

suffered much, perturbation in the meantime ; he 
had dreaded alike the effects of victory and of de- 
feat ; but have you not noticed how his thoughts in 
one moment returned to the darling object of his 
affections ? " Is the young man Absalom safe ?" 
said he, as if it mattered not what else had oc- 
curred, if his beloved son were but secure ! So, 
beloved, is it with the Christian. In the midst of 
calamities, whether they be the wreck of nations, 
the crash of empires, the heaving of revolutions, 
or the scourge of war, the great question which he 
asks himself, and asks of others too, is this — " Is 
Christ's kingdom safe ?" In his own personal 
afflictions his chief anxiety is — "Will God be glori- 
fied, and will his honour be increased by it ? If it 
be so, says he, although I be but as smoking flax, 
yet if the sun is not dimmed I will rejoice; and 
though I be a bruised reed, if the pillars of the 
temple are unbroken, what matters it that my reed 
is bruised ? He finds it sufficient consolation, in 
the midst of all the breaking in pieces which he 
endures, to think that Christ's throne stands fast 
and firm, and that though the earth hath rocked 
beneath his feet, yet Christ standeth on a rock 
which never can be moved. Some of these feel- 
ings, I think, have crossed our minds. Amidst 
much tumult and divers rushing to and fro of 
troublous thoughts, our souls have returned to the 
dearest object of our desires, and we have found it 
15* 



34:6 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUB. 

no small consolation, after all, to say, " It matters 
not what shall become of ns ; God hath highly ex- 
alted him, and given him a name which is above 
every name ; that at the name of Jesus every knee 
should bow." 

Thus is the thought of the love of Jesus in his 
delivering grace most indelibly impressed upon my 
memory ; and the fact that this experience is to me 
the most memorable crisis of my life, must be my 
apology for narrating it — an apology which I trust 
the indulgent reader will accept. 

7. Although it may be thought that we have 
reached the legitimate boundary of our subject, we 
cannot refrain from adding, that Jesus renders him- 
self peculiarly precious by the gracious manner in 
which, in bestowing an amazing increase of joy, he 
entirely obliterates every scar which the sword of 
adversity may have left in our flesh. As the joy 
that a man child is born into the world is said to 
destroy the remembrance of the previous travail 
of the mother, so the giorious manifestations of the 
Lord do wipe out all the bitter memories of the 
trials of the past. After the showers have fallen 
from the dark and lowering skies, how pleasant is 
the breath of nature. How delightfully the sun 
peers through the thick trees, transforming all the 
rain-drops to sparkling gems ; and even so, after a 
shower of .troubles, it is marvellous to feel the 
divine refreshings of the Lord of hosts right speed- 



JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 34-7 

ily transforming every tear into a j ewel of delight, 
and satisfying the soul with balmy peace. The 
soul's calm is deep and profound when the tem- 
pest has fully spent itself, for the same Jesus who 
in the storm said, " It is I," will comfort his people 
with royal dainties when the winds have been 
hushed to slumber. At the heels of our sorrows 
we find our joys. Great ebbs are succeeded by 
great floods, and sharp winters are followed by 
bright summers. This is the sweet fruit of Christ's 
love, — he will not have his brethren so much as 
remember their sorrows with regret ; he so works 
in them and towards them that their light afflic- 
tion is forgotten in happy contemplation upon his 
eternal weight of glory. Happy is that unhappi- 
ness which brings with • it such surpassing privi- 
leges, and more than excellent the grace which 
makes it so. We need a poet to sing the sweet 
uses of adversity. An ancient writer, whose words 
we are about to quote, has unconsciously produced 
a sonnet in prose upon this subject : — ■ 

" Stars shine brightest in the darkest night ; 
torches are better for the beating ; grapes come not 
to the proof till they come to the press; spices 
smell sweetest when pounded; young trees root the 
faster for shaking ; vine's are the better for bleed- 
ing; gold looks the brighter for scouring; glow- 
worms glisten best in the dark ; juniper smells 
sweetest in the fire ; pomander becomes most fra- 



34:8 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVI0UK. 

grant from chafing; the palm-tree proves the better 
for pressing ; camomile the more you tread it the 
more you spread it: such is the condition of all 
God's children, they are most triumphant when 
they are most tempted ; most glorious when most 
afflicted ; most in the favour of God when least in 
man's esteem. As their conflicts, so their con- 
quests ; as their tribulations, so their triumphs. 
True salamanders, they live best in the furnace of 
persecution ; so that heavy afflictions are the best 
benefactors to heavenly affections. "Where afflic- 
tions hang heaviest, corruptions hang loosest ; and 
grace that is hid in nature, as sweet water in rose 
leaves, is most fragrant when the fire of affliction 
is put under to distil it out." * 

Let each reader inquire whether this is in har- 
mony with his experience, and if it be so, let him 
testify to his tried brethren that he has tasted and 
handled of the goodness of the Lord Jesus, and has 
found him full of grace to help, and power to com- 
fort. Open thy mouth as wide in praise as thou 
didst in prayer, and let thy gratitude be as lasting 
as liis love. 

But if the reader cannot bear witness to the 
faithfulness of the Lord in the day of adversity, let 
him tremble. If his religion has forsaken him in 
his distress, let him at once doubt its character. 

* Samuel Clerk, preface to Martyrology. 



JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 349 

That is riot from heaven which cannot endure the 
fire. If the promises afford thee no comfort in thy 
trials, if thy faith doth utterly fail, and thou h'ndest 
thy profession tottering about thine ears, look well 
to thyself that thou be not deceived. We dare not 
say that there is no grace in the man who finds no 
comfort in the Lord in the day of evil, but we do 
say, with much earnestness, there is very grave 
cause for suspicion. The following sentences from 
the pen of William Gurnall deserve much ponder- 
ing ; they will raise a vital question in the mind 
of those who have never felt the sweetness of the 
promises in the hour of need: — "Promises are like 
the clothes we wear. If there be heat in the body 
to warm them, they warm ns, but if there be none, 
they give none. So where there is living faith, the 
promise will afford warm comfort ; but on a dead, 
unbelieving heart, it lies cold and ineffectual : it 
has no more effect than pouring a cordial down the 
throat of a corpse. Again, the promises do not 
throw out comfort as fire throws out heat ; for then 
we should only need to go to them in order to be 
warmed: their heat is like the fire in the flint, 
which must be struck out by force, and this force 
can only be applied by faith." * 

There is another explanation of the fact that a 
professor in trial sometimes finds no comfort in the 

* Christian Armour. 



350 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

promises ; and as it is a little more lenient, we add 
it here, and desire all such persons to judge for 
themselves. It may be that thou hast neglected 
communion, and therefore thy troubles weigh 
heavily. "When a bucket is let down into a deep 
well, and is under the water, it is easily wound up, 
and seems to be light, but when once it is drawn 
out of the water its weight becomes excessive : it 
is so with our sorrows — as long as we keep them 
submerged in God and fellowship they are light 
enough ; but once consider them apart from the 
Lord, and they become a grievous and intolerable 
burden. Faith will have to tug in earnest to lift 
our adversities when we stand alone without our 
Lord ; want of communion will rob the promises 
of their comfort, and load our griefs with weights 
of iron. 

It seems, then, that thou hast one of two faults 
to find with thyself, — either thou art dead, and so 
unable to feel the heat and comfort of the Lord's 
presence ; or else thou hast been inactive, not improv- 
ing the means whereby the fellowship of the Mas- 
ter may be realised. Search thine heart and know 
the reason. " Are the consolations of God small 
with thee ? Is there any secret thing with thee ?" * 
Look to thyself, for it may be thy soul is in an evil 
plight, and if so, be sure to give good heed unto it. 

* Job, xv. 11. 



JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 351 

Go to the Lord at once, and ask a fresh supply of 
life and grace. Do not seek to mimic the joy of 
believers, but strive for the reality of it. Rely not 
on thine own power. Trim thy lamp with hea- 
venly oil. If the fire of the Roman vestals were 
ever extinguished, they dare not light it except at 
the sun ; be sure that thou do not kindle a flame in 
thy heart with strange fire. Get renewal where 
thou didst get conversion, but be sure to get it, and 
at once. May the Holy Spirit help thee. 



TO THE inSTCONYEKTED EEADER. 



Poor sinner, how great a difference is there 
between thee and the believer ! and how apparent 
is this difference when in trouble ! You have 
trials, but you have no God to flee to ; your afflic- 
tions are frequently of the sharpest kind, but you 
have no promises to blunt their edge; you are 
in the furnace, but you are without that divine 
companion who can prevent the fire from hurting 
you. To the child of God adversity brings many 
blessings — to you it is empty-handed ; to him there 
ariseth light in the darkness — to you there is the 
darkness but no arising of the light ; you have all 
its miseries, but none of its benefits. How dreary 
must your heart feel when lover and friend are put 
far from you, when your hopes are withered, and 
your joys are removed ! You have no Christ to 
cheer you; he is not the recompence of your grief ; 
he is not Jehovah Jireh to you. You have no 
Almighty arms beneath you, no Eternal God to be 



JESUS IN THE HO UK OF TROUBLE. 353 

your refuge, no Anointed One to be your shield. 
You must bear your sorrows alone, or, if any 
attempt to help you, their strength is incompetent 
for the task. 

Oh, wretched man ! for ever enduring the thorn, 
but never reaching \he throne ; in the floods, but 
not washed ; burning in the fire, but not refined ; 
brayed in the mortar, but not cleansed of foolish- 
ness ; suffering, but unsanctified. What misery to 
have no foundation in the day of the tempest, no 
covert from the wind, no shelter from the storm ! 
The saint can bear a w T orld of trouble when the 
strength of Israel doth brace him with omnipo- 
tence ; but thou, without the support of the Most 
High, art crushed before the moth, and over- 
whelmed when evil getteth hold upon thee. Thy 
present trials are too heavy for thee ; what wilt 
thou do in the swellings of Jordan ? In the day 
when the drops shall have become a torrent, and 
the small rain of tribulation has given place to the 
waterspouts of vengeance, how wilt thou endure 
the unutterable wrath of the Lamb ? 

Lay this to thy heart, and may the Lord enable 
thee to cast the burden of thy sin upon the crucified 
Saviour ; then shalt thou have boldness to cast thy 
griefs there also. 



X. 

JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 



Thou didst hide thy face, and I was troubled." — Ps. xxx, 7. 



" Wh) r dost thou shade thy lovely face ? oh, why 
Doth that eclipsing hand so long deny 
The sunshine of thy soul-enlivening eye ? 

" Without that light, what light remains in me ? 
Thou art my life, my way, my light ; in thee 
I live, I move, and by thy beams I see. 

" Thou art my life ; if thou but turn away, 
My life's a thousand deaths: thou art my way; 
Without thee, Lord, I travel not, but stray. 

" My light thou art ; without thy glorious sight, - 
Mine eyes are darken' d with perpetual night. 
My God, thou art my way, my life, my light." 

Quarles. 

The Lord Jesus will never remove his love from 
any one of the objects of his choice. The names 
of his redeemed are written on his hands and 
graven on his side-; they are designed for eternal 

854 



JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 355 

felicity, and to that blessed consummation his 
hand and his heart are unitedly resolved to bring 
them. The meanest lamb of the blood-bought 
flock shall be preserved securely by the " strength 
of Israel" unto the day of his appearing, and shall, 
through every season of tribulation and distress, 
continue to be beloved of the Lord. Yet this does 
not prevent the great Shepherd from hiding him- 
self for a season, when his people are rebellious. 
Though the Redeemer's grace shall never be utterly 
removed, yet there shall be partial withdrawals 
of his presence, whereby our joys shall be dimmed, 
and our evidences darkened. He will sometimes 
say, " I will go and return unto my place, until 
they acknowledge their offences which they have 
committed against me ;" and at other seasons, for a 
trial of their faith, he will " for a small moment " 
hide himself from them. 

In proportion as the Master's presence is delight- 
ful, his absence is mournful. Dark is the night 
which is caused by the setting of such a sun. No 
blow of Providence can ever wound so sorely as 
this. A blasted crop is as nothing compared with 
an absent Redeemer ; yea, sickness and the 
approach of death are preferable to the departure 
of Emmanuel. Skin for skin, yea, all that a man 
hath will he give for his life ; and more than that 
would the sincere disciple be prepared to surrender 
for a renewal of his Lord's presence. " Oh, that I 



356 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

were as in months past, as in the days when God 
preserved me ; when his candle sinned npon my 
head, and when by his light I walked through 
darkness !" Such will be the sorrowful complaint 
of the spirit when groping its way through the 
darkness of desertion. " God's hiding himself, 
though but for trial's sake, will so trouble a 
Christian that he will quickly be a burden to 
himself, and fear round about, as it is said of 
Pashm*.* It will make him weary of the night, 
and weary of the day; weary of his own house, 
and weary of God's house ; weaiy of mirth, and 
account it madness ; weary of riches and honours ; 
yea, if it continue long, it will make him weary of 
life itself, and wish for death." f The effect is 
always deplorable during the time of its duration, 
but the cause of it is not always the same. There 
are divers reasons for apparent desertions ; we will 
enter upon that interesting subject in the next 
chapter, and in the present meditation we shall 
chiefly consider the ill effects of the absence of 
Christ. 

We would carefully distinguish between those 
withdrawals which are evidences of an offence 
given to our Lord, and those which are designed 
to be trials of our faith. Our experience under 
different varieties of forsakings will vary, and the 

* Jer. xx. 3. 

1 Lockyer on Christ's Communion. 



JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 357 

following remarks, although in the main applicable 
to all desertions, are only intended in their detail to 
refer to those which are brought about by our trans- 
gressions ; and even then it is not to be imagined 
that each case will exhibit every point which we 
shall now observe. Here we specially refer to 
those hidings of God's countenance which arc 
brought upon us as a fatherly chastisement. And 
we do not here dwell upon the ultimate and 
blessed effects of the temporary forsakings of God, 
but are only to be understood, to refer to the ills 
which, during the time, beset the soul. 

Holy men may be left to walk in darkness. 
" Sometimes Christians are guilty of acting a part 
which is. offensive to their dear Saviour, and there- 
fore he withdraws from them. Darkness spreads 
itself over them, thick clouds interpose between him 
and their souls, and they see not his smiling face. 
This was the case with the Church when she was 
inclined unto carnal ease, rather than to rise and 
give her beloved entrance. He quickened her 
desires after the enjoyment of his company, by an 
effectual touch upon her heart; but he withdrew, 
departed, and left her to bewail her folly in her 
sinful neglect. Upon this her bowels were trou- 
bled : she arose and sought him ; but she found 
him not. It is just with him to hide himself from 
us, if we are indifferent about the enjoyments of 
his delightful presence, and give us occasion to 



358 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 






confess our ingratitude to him, by the loss we sus- 
tain in consequence of it. His love in itself passes 
under no vicissitude ; it is always the same ; that 
is our security ; but the manifestation of it to our 
souls, from which our peace, comfort, and joy 
spring, may be interrupted through our negligence, 
sloth, and sin. A sense of it, when it is so, may 
well break our hearts ; for there is no ingratitude 
in the world like it." * We would not be under- 
stood to teach that God punishes his people for sin 
in a legal sense ; this would be a slur upon his 
justice ; for, seeing that he has fully punished 
their sin in Christ, to inflict any penalty upon them 
would be demanding a double punishment for one 
offence, which were unjust. Let the chastisements 
be understood in a paternal sense as correctives, 
and the truth is gained. Sin will be chastened in 
the elect. " You only have I known out of all the 
nations of the earth, therefore, I will punish you 
for your iniquities." If we walk contrary to him, 
he will walk contrary to us. The promise of com- 
munion is only appended to obedience. " He that 
hath my commandments, and keepeth them, he it 
is that loveth me : and he that loveth me shall be 
loved of my Father, and I will love him, and will 
manifest myself to him." f ]STow if we walk scan- 
dalously, and indulge in known sin, no wonder 

* Brine. f John xiv. 21. 






JESUS HIDING- HIMSELF. 359 

though the Lord withdraw himself from us. The 
joy of his salvation most not rest with his erring 
ones, though the salvation itself is ever theirs. 
Alas for us, that our corruption should so ire 
quently mar our communion ! 

Many times between conversion and the rest of 
eternity, the Christian, through sin, will have to 
walk through a salt land, not inhabited, and find the 
songs of the Canticles hushed by the wail of the 
Lamentations. Yet we would fain believe that 
there are some who have but little cause to write 
their history in black letters, for their life has been 
one continued calm communion, with only here 
and there a hurried interruption. We are far from 
believing that the despondency, coldness, and 
misery produced by a loss of the visible love of 
Christ ought to make up any considerable part of 
the biography of a Christian. That they do so in 
many cases, w T e readily admit, but that it should 
be so w r e never can allow. Those men who glory 
in what they proudly call a deep experience, — by 
which they mean great wanderings from the path 
which Enoch trod when he walked with God, — are 
very prone to exalt the infirmities of the Lord's 
people into infallible and admirable proofs of 
grace. To them an absent Christ is line stock in 
trade for a sermon upon their own superlative wis- 
dom ; and a heart which mourns abundantly, but 
loves most scantily, is to them what perfection is to 



360 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

the Arminian. As if the weeds of the field were 
precious plants because they will grow in good 
soil ; as if the freckles on the face of beauty were 
to be imitated by all who desire to attain to loveli- 
ness ; or as if the rocks iii the sea were the very 
cause of its fulness. The deepest experience in 
the world is that which deals only with the Lord 
Jesus Christ, and is so sick of man, and of all 
within him, and so confident of the Lord Jesus, 
that it casts the whole weight of the sin and sinful- 
ness of the soul entirely upon the Redeemer, and 
rejoicing in his all sufficiency, looks above the 
wants and. woes of its own evil and ruined nature, 
to the completion of the new man in Christ Jesus. 
That eminent preacher, the late Rowland Hill, has 
well said, "I do not like Christians to live always 
complaining ; but I do not mind how much they 
complain if they carry their corruptions to Jesus." 
This is forgotten by many; but those who are care- 
ful to practice it will have many causes for gladness. 
Blessed be God, the green pastures and the still 
waters, the shepherd's crook and pleasant com- 
pany, are objects which are quite as familiar to 
the believer's mind as the howling wilderness and 
the brandished rod — 

" The men of grace have found 
Glory begun below; 
Celestial fruits on earthly ground, 
From faith and hope do grow." 



JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 361 

Yet, to the believer's grief, seasons of absence do 
occur, and those, alas, too frequently. It is our 
business, as the Holy Spirit shall enable us, very 
briefly to consider the subject of apparent deser- 
tion on account of sin, and may He make it useful 
to us. 

We shall now proceed to review the mischiefs 
which attend upon suspended communion. The 
effects of the withdrawal of the face of Jesus are 
the outward signs shadowing forth the secret sick- 
ness of the heart, which such a condition neces- 
sarily engenders. Although it be not fatal, yet is 
it exceedingly hurtful to miss the company of the 
Lord. As plants thrive not when the light is kept 
from them, but become blanched and unhealthy, 
so souls deprived of the light of God's counte- 
nance are unable to maintain the verdure of 
their piety or the strength of their graces. "What 
a loss is a lost Christ ! 

During this doleful season the believe?^ s evidences 
are eclipsed / he is in grievous doubt concerning 
his own condition before God ; his faith is become 
weak, his hope well-nigh buried, and his love cold 
and languid. The graces v/hich, like planetary 
stars, once shone upon him with light and radi- 
ance, are now dark and cheerless, for the sun has 
departed, the source of their light is concealed in 
clouds. Evidences without Christ are like unlit 
candles, which afford no light ; like fig-trees with 

1G 



362 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

leaves only, devoid of fruit; like purses without 
gold, and like barns without wheat ; they have 
great capabilities of comfort, but without Jesus 
they are emptiness itself. Evidences are like con- 
duit-pipes — they are sometimes the channels of 
7 iving water, but if the supply from the fountain- 
head be cut off from them, their waters utterly 
fail. That man will die of thirst who has no better 
spring to look to than an empty pitcher of evi- 
dences. Ishmael would have perished in the wil- 
derness if his only hope had been in the bottle 
which his mother brought out with her from the 
tent of Abraham ; and assuredly without direct 
supplies from the gracious hands of the Lord Jesus, 
the saints would soon be in an ill plight Unless 
the God of our graces be ever at the root of them, 
they will prove like Jonah's gourd, which withered 
away when he was most in need of it. In this 
condition we shall find ourselves, if we lose the 
presence of the Lord Jesus ; we shall be racked 
with fears, and tormented with doubts, without 
possessing that sovereign cordial with which in 
better days our sorrows have been allayed. We 
shall find all the usual sources of our consola- 
tion dried up, and it will be in vain for us to 
expect a single drop from them. Ahab sent 
Obediah upon an idle errand, when in the time of 
great drought he said, " Go into the land unto all 
fountains of water, and unto all brooks : peradven- 



JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 363 

ture we may find grass to save the horses and 
mules alive, that we lose not all the beasts ;" for 
it was the presence and prayer of Elijah which 
alone could procure the rain to supply their wants; 
and if we, when we have lost our Master's society, 
seek to obtain comfort in past experiences and 
time-worn evidences, we shall have to weep with 
bitter tears because of a disappointed hope. "We 
must regain the society of Christ, if we would 
restore the lustre of our assurance. An absent 
Saviour and joyous confidence are seldom to be 
spoken of together. 

We know, however, that some professors can 
maintain a confident carriage when the presence 
of the Lord is withholden ; they are as content 
without him as with him, and as happy under his 
frown as when in the sunshine of his smile. Be- 
tween the outward appearances of strong faith and 
strong delusion there is frequently so little difference 
that the presumptuous boaster is often as highly 
esteemed as the assured believer: nevertheless in 
their inner nature there is an essential distinction. 
Faith believes on Jesus when his comfortable 
promise is not vouchsafed ; but it does not render 
the soul indifferent to the sweetness of society 
Faith says, " I believe him when I do not feel his 
love manifest towards me, but my very persuasion 
of his faithfulness makes me pant for the light of 
his countenance ;" but vain presumption exclaims, 



364 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIODK. 

" Away with evidences and manifestations, I am a 
vessel of mercy, and therefore I am secure ; why 
should I trouble myself about grace or graces ? I 
have made up my mind that all is right, and I will 
not break my slumbers, whoever may seek to 
alarm me." Happy is the man whose faith can 
see in the thick darkness, and whose soul can live 
in the year of drought; but that man is not far 
from a curse who slights the fellowship of the 
Lord, and esteems his smile to be a vain thing. It 
is an ill sign if any of us are in a contented state 
when we are forsaken of the Lord ; it is not faith, 
but wicked indifference, which makes us careless 
concerning communion with Him. And yet how 
often have we had cause to lament our want of 
concern ? how frequently have we groaned because 
we could not weep as we ought for the return of 
our husband who had hidden himself from us ? 

When enveloped in the mists of desertion, we 
lose all those 'pleasant visions of the future which 
once were the jewels in the crown of our life. We 
have no climbings to the top of Pisgah ; no pros- 
pects of the better land ; no earnests of pure 
delight; no foretastes of the riches of glory, and 
no assurance of our title to the goodly land beyond 
Jordan. It is as much as we can do to preserve 
ourselves from despair; we cannot aspire to any 
confidence of future glory. It is a contested point 
with us whether we are not ripening for hell. We 



JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 365 

fear that we never knew a Saviour's love, but have 
been all along deceivers and deceived ; the pit of 
hell yawns before us, and we are in great straits to 
maintain so much as a bare hope of escape from it. 
We had once despised others for what we thought 
to be foolish doubts, but now that we ourselves are 
ready to slip with our feet, we think far more of 
the lamps which we despised* when we were 
at ease, and" would be willing to change places 
with them if we might have as good an opinion of 
our own sincerity as we have of theirs. We would 
give anything for half a grain of hope, and would 
be well content to be the meanest of the sheep, if 
we might but have a glimpse of the Shepherd. 

The native buoyancy of spirit which distin- 
guishes the heir of heaven is in a great measure 
removed by the departure of the Lord. The be- 
liever is spiritually a man who can float in the 
deepest waters, and mount above the highest bil- 
lows ; he is able, when in a right condition, to keep 
his head above all the water-floods which may in- 
vade his peace : but see his Lord depart, and he 
sinks in deep mire, w T here there is no standing — all 
the waves and the billows have gone over him. 
Troubles which were light as a feather to him, are 
now like mountains of lead ; he is afraid of every 
dog that snarls at him, and trembles at every 

* Job, xii. 5. 



866 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

shadow. He who in his better days could cut 
down an acre of foemen at a stroke, is affrighted 
at the approach of a single adversary. He whose 
heart was fixed so that he was not afraid of evil 
tidings, is now alarmed at every report. Once he 
could hurl defiance to earth and hell united, and 
could laugh at persecution, slander, and reproach, 
but he is now as timid as a deer, and trembles at 
every phantom that threatens him. His daily 
cares, which once he loved to cast upon the Lord, 
and counted but as the small dust of the balance, 
are now borne upon the shoulders of his own 
anxiety, and are a load intolerably oppressive. 
He was once clothed in armour of proof, and was 
not afraid of sword or spear; but now that he 
hath lost his Master's presence, such is his naked- 
ness that every thorn pierces him, and every 
briar fetches blood from him ; yea, his spirit is 
pierced through and through with anxious thoughts 
which once would have been his scorn. How are 
the mighty fallen ; how are the princes taken in a 
net, and the nobles cast as the mire of the street ! 
He who could do all things can now do nothing ; 
and he who could rejoice in deep distress is now 
mourning in the midst of blessings. He is like a 
chariot without wheels or horses, a harp without 
strings, a river without water, and a sail without, 
wind. No songs and music now; his harp is 
hanging upon the willows. It is vain to ask of 



JESTJS HIDING HIMSELF. 367 

him a song, for "the chief musician upon his 
stringed instruments "has ceased to lead the choir. 
Can the spouse be happy when she has grieved her 
bridegroom and lost his company ? No ; she will 
go weeping through every street of the city, until 
she can again embrace him; her joy shall cease 
until again she shall behold his countenance. 

It is frequently an effect of divine withdrawal 
that the inind becomes grovelling and earthly. 
Covetousness and love of riches attain a sad pre- 
ponderance. The Lord will hide himself if we 
love the world; and, on the other hand, his ab- 
sence, which is intended for far other purposes, 
will sometimes, through the infirmity of our na- 
ture, increase the evil which it is intended to cure. 
When the Lord Jesus is present in the soul, and is 
beheld by it, ambition, covetousness, and worldli- 
ness flee apace ; for such is his apparent glory that 
earthly objects fade away like the stars in noon- 
day ; but when he is gone they will show their 
false glitter, as the stars, however small, will shine 
at midnight. Find a Christian whose soul cleaveth 
to the dust, and who careth for the things of this 
life, and you have found one who has had but 
little manifest fellowship with Jesus. As sure as 
ever we undervalue the Saviours company, we 
shall set too high an estimate upon the things of 
this life, and then bitterness and disappointment 
are at the door. 



THE SAINT AND HIS SAYIOUE. 

At this juncture, moreover, the great enemy of 
souls is peculiarly husy ; our extremity is his op- 
portunity, and he is not backward in availing him- 
self of it. !N"ow that Zion's Captain has removed 
his royal presence, the evil one concludes that he 
may deal with the soul after the devices of his own 
malicious heart. Accordingly, with, many a roar 
and hideous yell, he seeks to affright the saint; 
and if this suffices not, he lifts his arm of terror and 
hurls his fiery dart. As lions prowl by night, so 
doth he seek his prey in the darkness. The saint 
is now more than usually beneath his power; 
every wound from the envenomed dart festers and 
gangrenes more easily than at other times ; while 
to the ear of the troubled one the bowlings of Satan 
seem to be a thousand times louder than he had 
ever heard before. Doubts of our calling, our 
election, and adoption, fly into our souls like the 
flies into Pharaoh's palace, and all the while the 
grim fiend covers us with a darkness that may be 
felt. Had he attacked us in our hours of commu- 
nion, we would soon have made him feel the metal 
of our swords ; but our arm is palsied, and our 
strokes are like blows from the hand of a child, 
rather exciting his laughter than his fear. Oh for 
the days when we put to flight the armies of the 
aliens ! would to God we could again put on 
strength, and by the arm of the Lord o'erthrow the 
hosts of hell ! Like Samson we sigh for the hair 



JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 369 

in which our great strength iieth ; and when the 
shouts of the vaunting Philistines are in our ears, 
we cry for the strength which once laid our ene- 
mies "heaps upon heaps" by thousands. We 
must again enjoy the manifest presence of the 
Lord, or we shall have hard work to lift up a 
standard against the enemy. 

It is not an unusual circumstance to find sin 
return upon the conscience at this critical season. 

" Now the heart, disclos'd, betrays 

All its hid disorders ; • 
Enmity to God's right ways, 

Blasphemies and murders : 
Malice, envy, lust, and pride, 

Thoughts obscene and filthy, 
Sores corrupt and putrefied, 

No part sound or healthy. 

" All things to promote our fall, 

Show a mighty fitness ; 
Satan will accuse withal, 

And the conscience witness ; 
Foes within, and foes without, 

Wrath, and law, and terrors ; 
Eash presumption, timid doubt, 

Coldness, deadness, errors." * 

When Israel had the sea before them, and the 
mountains on either hand, their old masters 

* Hart. 

16* 



370 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

thought it a fit time to pursue them ; and now that 
the believer is in great straits, his former sins rise 
up to afflict him and cause him renewed sorrow : 
then, moreover, our sins become more formidable 
to us than they were at our first repentance ; when 
we were in Egypt we saw not the Egyptians upon 
horses and in chariots — they only appeared as our 
task-masters with their whips ; but now we see 
them clad in armour as mighty ones, full of wrath, 
bearing the instruments of death. The pangs of 
sin, when the Lord forsakes us, are frequently as 
vehement as at first conversion, and in some cases 
far more so ; for conviction of having grieved 
a Saviour whose love we have once known, and 
whose faithfulness we have proved, will cause grief 
of a far more poignant character than any other 
order of conviction. Men who have been in a 
room full of light, think the darkness more dense 
than it is considered to be by those who have long 
walked in it ; so pardoned men think more of the 
evil of sin than those who never saw the light. 

The deserted soul has little or no liberty in 
prayer : he pursues the habit from a sense of duty, 
but it yields him no delight. In prayer the spirit 
is dull and languid, and after it the soul feels no 
more refreshment than is afforded to the weary by 
a sleep disturbed with dreams and broken with 
terrors. He is unable to enter into the- spirit of 
worship ; it is rather an attempt at devotion than 



JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 371 

the attainment of it. As when the bird with 
broken wing strives to mount, and rises a little dis- 
tance, but speedily falls to the ground, where it 
painfully limps and flaps its useless pinion — so does 
the believer strive to pray, but fails to reach the 
height of his desires, and sorrowfully gropes his 
way with anguishing attempts to soar on high. A 
pious man once said — " Often when in prayer I 
feel as if I held between my palms the fatherly 
heart of God, and the bloody hand of the Lord 
Jesus ; for I remind the one of his divine love and 
inconceivable mercies, and I grasp the other by 
his promise, and strive to hold him fast and say, 
' I will not let thee go except thou bless me.' " * 
But when left by the Lord such blessed nearness 
of access is impossible ; there is no answer of 
peace, no token for good, no message of love. The 
ladder is there, but no angels are ascending and 
descending upon it ; the key of prayer is in the 
hand, but it turns uselessly within the lock. 
Prayer without the Lord's presence is like a bow 
without a string, or an arrow without a head. 

The Bible, too, that great granary of the finest 
wheat, becomes a place of emptiness, where hun- 
ger looks in vain for food : in reading it, the dis^ 
tressed soul will think it to be all threatenings and 
no promises; he will see the terrors written in 

* Gen. xxxii. 26. 



37.2 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

capitals, and the consolations printed in a type so 
small as to be almost illegible. Read the "Word 
he must, for it has become as necessary as his 
food ; but enjoy it he cannot, for its savour has 
departed. As well might we try to read in the 
dark as to get joy from Holy Scripture unless 
Christ shall .pour his gracious light upon the page. 
As the richest field yields no harvest without rain, 
so the book of revelation brings forth no comfort 
without the dew of the Spirit. 

Out intercourse with Christian friends, once so 
enriching, is rendered profitless, or at best its only 
usefulness is to reveal our poverty by enabling us 
to compare our own condition with that of other 
saints. We cannot minister unto their edification, 
nor do we feel that their company is affording us 
its usual enjoyment ; and it may be we turn away 
from them, longing to see His face whose absence 
we deplore. This barrenness overspreads all the 
ordinances of the Lord's house, and renders them 
all unprofitable. "When Christ is with the Chris- 
tian, the means of grace are like flowers in the sun- 
shine, smelling fragrantly and smiling beauteousiy ; 
but without Christ they are like flowers by night, 
their fountains of fragrance are sealed by the dark- 
ness. The songs of the temple shall be howlings 
in that day, and her solemn feasts as mournful as 
her days of fasting. The sacred supper which, 
when Christ is at the table, is a feast of fat things, 



JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 373 

without him is as an empty vine. The holy con- 
vocation without Him is as the gatherings of the 
market, and the preaching of his Word as the 
shoutings of the streets. We hear, but the out- 
ward ear is the only part affected ; we sing, but 

%- 

" Hosannabs languish on our tongues, 
And our devotion dies." 

We even attempt to preach (if this be our calling), 
but we speak in heavy chains, full of grievous 
bondage. We pant for God's house, and then, 
after we have entered it, we are but the worse. 
We have thirsted for the well, and having reached 
it we find it empty. 

Yery probably we shall grow censorious, and 
blame the ministry and the church when the blame 
lies only with ourselves. We shall begin to cavil, 
censure, criticise, and blame. Would to God that 
any who are now doing so would pause and inquire 
the reason of their unhappy disposition. Hear the 
reproof administered by one of the giants of puri- 
tanic times : " You come ofttimes to Wisdom's 
home, and though she prepare you all spiritual 
dainties, yet you can relish nothing but some by- 
things, that lie about the dish rather for ornament 
than for food. And would you know the reason 
of this % It is because Christ is not with your 
spirits. If Christ were with you, you would feed 
on every dish at Wisdom's table, on promises, yea, 



374: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

and on threatenings too. ' To the hungry soul 
every bitter thing is sweet,' saith Solomon. All 
that is good and wholesome goes down well where 
Christ is with the spirit." * Oh, for the Master's 
smile to impart a relish to his dainties ! 

Weakness is the unavoidable result of the Lord's 
displeasure. " The joy of the Lord is our strength," 
and if this be wanting we necessarily become faint. 
"His presence is life," and the removal of it shakes 
us to our very foundation. Duty is toilsome 
labour, unless Christ make it a delight. " "With- 
out me ye can do nothing," said the Redeemer ; 
and truly we have found it so. The boldness of 
lion-like courage, the firmness of rooted decision, 
the confidence of unflinching faith, the zeal of 
quenchless love, the vigour of undying devotion, 
the sweetness of sanctified fellowship — all hang for 
support upon the one pillar of the Saviour's pre- 
sence, and this removed they fail. There are 
many and precious clusters, -but they all grow on 
one bough, and if that be broken they fall with it. 
Though we be flourishing like the green bay-tree, 
yet the sharpness of such a winter will leave us 
leafless and bare. Then the fig-tree shall not bios* 
som, neither shall there be fruit in the vine ; the 
labour of the olive shall fail, and the field shall 
yield no meat." " Instead of sweet smell there 

* Lockyer. 



JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 375 

shall be a stink ; and instead of a girdle a rent ; 
and instead of well-set hair, baldness ; and instead 
of a stomacher a girding of sackcloth ; and burn- 
ing instead of beauty." * It is then that we shall 
cry with Saul, " I am sore distressed, for the Philis- 
tines make war against me, and God is departed 
from me, and answereth me no more, neither by 
prophets nor by dreams." f Good it is for us that 
He is not clean gone for ever, but will turn again 
lest we perish. 

Not to weary ourselves upon this mournful topic, 
we may sum up all the manifest effects of a loss of 
the manifest favour of Christ in one sad catalogue 
— misery of spirit, faintness in hope, coldness in 
worship, slackness in duty, dulness in prayer, bar- 
renness in meditation, worldliness of mind, strife 
of conscience, attacks from Satan, and weakness in 
resisting the enemy. Such ruin doth a withdraw- 
ing of Divine presence work in man. From all 
grieving of thy Spirit, from all offending of the 
Saviour, from all withdrawing of thy visible 
favour, and loss of thy presence, good Lord, 
deliver us. And if at any time we have erred, 
and have lost the light of thy countenance, O Lord, 
help us still to believe thy grace and trust in the 
merits of thy Son, through whom we address thee. 
Amen. 

* Isa. iii. 24. f 1 Sam. xxviii. 15. 



TO THE UNCONVERTED EEADEE. 



Sinner, if the consequences of the temporary 
departure of God be so terrible, what must it be to 
be shut out from him for ever ? If the passing 
cloud of his seeming anger scattereth such grievous 
rain upon the beloved sons of God, how direful will 
be the continual shower of God's unchanging wrath 
which will fall on the head of rebellious sinners for 
ever and ever ! Ah, and we need not look so far 
as the future ! How pitiable is your condition 
now ! How great is the danger to which you are 
every day exposed ! How can you eat or drink, 
or sleep or work, while the eternal God is your 
enemy? He whose wrath makes the devils roar 
in agony is not a God to be trifled with ! Beware ! 
his frown is death ; 'tis more — 'tis hell. If you 
knew the misery of the saint when his Lord deserts 
him but for a small moment, it would be enough 
to amaze you. Then what must it be to endure 
it throughout eternity ? Sinner, thou art hasting 

8T6 



JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 377 

to hell, mind what thou art at! Do not damn 
thyself, there are cheaper ways of playing fool 
than that. Go and array thyself in motley, and 
become the aping fool, at whom men laugh, but do 
not make laughter for fiends for ever. Carry coals 
on thy head, or dash thine head against the wall, 
to prove that thou art mad, but do not " kick 
against the pricks ;" do not commit suicide upon 
thine own soul for the mere sake of indulging thy 
thoughtlessness. Be wise, lest being often reproved, 
having hardened thy neck, thou shouldest be sud- 
denly destroyed, and that without remedy. 



XI. 

THE CAUSES OF APPARENT 
DESERTION. ' 



" Show me wherefore thou contendest with me." — Job, x. 2. 



It would be a grievous imputation upon the 
much tried children of God, if we should imagine 
that their greater trials are the results of greater 
sin. We see some of them stretched upon the bed 
of languishing year after year ; others are subject 
to the severest losses in business, and a third class 
are weeping the oft-repeated bereavements of 
death. Are all these chastisements for sin I and 
are we to attribute the excess of trouble to an 
enlarged degree of transgression? Many of the 
Lord's people are free from the extreme bitterness 
of such affliction : what is the cause of the differ- 
ence ? Is it always the result of sin ? We reply, 
Certainly not. In many cases it is, but in as many 
more it is not. David had a comparatively smooth 



37S 



CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION". 379 

course until after his sin with Bathsheba, and then 
he commenced a pilgrimage of deepest woe ; but 
we do not think that the trials of Job were pre- 
ceded by any great fall ; on the contrary. Job was 
never more holy than just before the enemy fell 
upon him. Trials have other errands besides the 
mortification of the flesh, and other reasons beyond 
that of chastisement for sin. 

Since the hidings of God's countenance stand 
among the chief of our troubles, the previous 
remark will apply to them. These are, without 
doubt, very frequently a monition from Christ of 
his grief at our iniquities ; but, at the same time, 
there are so many exceptions to this rule, that it 
would be unsafe, as well as untrue, to consider it to 
be general. A portion of the Lord's family live 
usually in the shade ; they are like those sweet 
flowers which bloom nowhere so well as in the 
darkest and thickest glades of the forest. Shall we 
dare to charge them with guilt on this account ? 
If we do so, their extreme sensitiveness will lead 
them to plead guilty ; they will be wounded to the 
quick, and by their very grief and ingenuous con- 
fession, they will unwittingly refute our cruel sup- 
position. Some of these bedarkened travellers 
exhibit the rarest virtues and the most precious 
graces. They are, of course, wanting in some 
great points ; but in others they so much excel that 
we are compelled to admire. The white and sickly 



380 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

_ily is exceeding fair, although she has not the 
ruddy health which is the glory of the rose. We 
desire that these sons and daughters of mourning 
may come forth to the light, and rejoice in their 
Lord : but if they shall still tarry in the land of 
darkness, be it far from us to charge them with 
greater sin because they have less joy. We 
remember well the lines of the poet — 

" In this wild world the fondest and the best 
Are the most tried, most troubled, and distrest." * 

"We will now venture to suggest some of the rea- 
sons for the Saviour's withdrawals. 

1. Divine /Sovereignty is manifested in the com- 
munion of saints with their Lord, as well as in 
every other step of the journey to heaven. He 
who giveth no account of his matters, out of his 
own absolute will and good pleasure may extin- 
guish the lamps of comfort and quench the fires of 
joy, and yet give to his creature no reason for his 
conduct; yea, and find no reason in the creature, 
but exercise his Mngly rights in the most uncon- 
trolled and absolute manner. That all men may 
see that their best pleasures flow from the river of 
God, and are only to be found in him, and only to 
be obtained through his divine grace, he is pleased 
at certain seasons to dry up the springs, to close the 

* Crabbe. 



CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 381 

fountain, and suspend the flowing of the stream ; 
so that even the best of men languish, and all the 
godly of the earth do Mourn. Lest the green fir- 
tree should exalt itself by reason of its fruitfulness, 
as if it did garnish itself with beauty, the God of 
our salvation allows a withering and a blight to 
seize upon it that it may believe the sacred decla- 
ration, " From me is thy fruit found." God's 
own glory is sometimes his only motive for action, 
and truly it is a reason so great and good that he 
w T ho mocks at it must be a stranger to God, and 
cannot be truly humbled before him. It may be 
that the sole cause of our sad condition lies in the 
absolute will of God ; if so, let us bend our heads 
in silence, and let him do what seemeth him good. 
Unhappy is our lot when our best Beloved is ab- 
sent ; but he shall do as he pleases, and w T e will 
sigh for his return ; but we will not chide him for 
his absence : " What if God will use his absolute- 
ness and prerogative in this his dealing with his 
child, and proceed therein according to no ruled 
case or precedent ? This he may do, and who shall 
cry, 'What doest thou V " ■* 

We think, however, that this case is but of rare 
occurrence, and we would, under every withdrawal, 
exhort the believer to look for some other cause, 
and only resort to this explanation when he can 

* Goodwin. 



382 TEE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

truly say, as in God's sight, that with diligent 
searching he cannot discover another. Then let 
him remember that such trouble shall be richly re- 
compensed even in this life, as Job's poverty was 
fully restored by his double wealth. 

2. Without this the believer could not enter Lito 
the depths of fellowship with Christ in his suffer- 
ings. The very worst of the Saviour's agonies lay 
in his desertion by God ; the cry of " My God, my 
God, why hast thou forsaken me ?" was the gall of 
the bitterness of the miseries of Jesus. Now, unless 
we had to endure a measure of the same excruci- 
ating torment of desertion, we could not enter into 
communion with him to any great degree. At the 
very deepest our fellowship is shallow ; but give 
us the continued and invariable light of the Lord's 
countenance, and we should for ever remain little 
children in fellowship. Our Master desires that 
we may know him in his death, and sympathise 
with him in his sufferings. That eminent divine, 
Richard Sibbs, thus writes : " Now all of us must 
sip of that cup whereof Christ drank the dregs, 
having a taste of what it is to have God to forsake 
us. For the most part, those believers who live 
any time (especially those of great parts) God deals 
thus with ; weaker Christians he is more indulgent 
unto. At such a time we know the use of a medi- 
ator, and how miserable our condition were with- 
out such an one, both to have borne and overcome 



CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 383 

the wrath of God for us!"* Again, the deeply 
experienced Thomas Goodwin says : " Though no 
creature was able to drink off Christ's cup to the 
bottom, yet taste they might, and Christ tells them 
they should : ' Ye shall drink indeed of my cup, 
and be baptised with the baptism that I am bap- 
tised with,'t that is, taste of inward affliction and 
desertion, as well as of outward persecution ; and 
all to make us conformable to him, that we might 
come to know in part what he endured for us." J 
Sweet departure of Jesus, which thus enables us to 
approach the nearer to him ! of all reasons for pa- 
tience none can be more powerful than this. 

3. Thus, in some men, the Lord works a prepa- 
ration for eminent service. By the experience of 
sharp inward trouble, the Lord's mighty men are 
prepared for the fight. To them the heat by day 
and the frost by night, the shoutings of the war, 
the spear and the battle-axe are little things, for 
they have been trained in a sterner school. They 
are like plants which have lived through the severi- 
ties of winter, and can well defy the frosts of spring; 
they are like ships which have crossed the deep and 
have weathered the storm, and are not to be upset 
by every capful of wind. To them the loss of 
man's applause is of small account, for they have 
endured the loss of Christ's smile, and have yet 

* Sibbs's Bowels Opened. \ Matt. xx. 23. 

% Child of Light walking in Darkness 



384: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

trusted him. To them the contumely of a world, 
and the rage of hell, are nothing, for they have 
suffered what is a thousand times worse — they 
have passed under the cloud of Christ's transient 
forsaking. They are wise, for, like Heman, they 
have been " afflicted and ready to die from their 
youth up," * and therefore, like him, they are fit 
to compare with Solomon in some things, and are 
wiser than he in others. f They are useful, for 
Paul saith of such men, " Brethren, if a man be 
overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual, restore 
such an one in the spirit of meekness, considering 
thyself, lest thou also be tempted." There are no 
preachers in the world like those who have passed 
by the way of trouble to the gate of wisdom. 
Moses prized Hobab because he knew how to en- 
camp in the wilderness,;}: and so we value the 
minister who has learned as Hobab did, by living 
in the desert himself. Luther said Temptation was 
one of his masters in divinity. We will readily 
trust ourselves in the hands of a physician who has 
been himself sick of our disease, and has tried the 
remedies which he prescribes for us ; so we confide 
in the advice of the Christian who knows our trials 
by having felt them. What sweet words in season 
do tried saints address to mourners ! they are the 
real sons of consolation, the truly good Samaritans, 

* Ps. Ixxxviii. 15. f 1 Kings, iv. 81. 

X Num. x. 31. 



CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 385 

We who have a less rugged path, are apt to over- 
drive the lambs; but these have nourished and 
brought up children, and know how to feel for the 
weaknesses of the little ones. It is often remarked 
that after soul-sorrow our pastors are more gifted 
with words in season, and their speech is more full 
of savour : this is to be accounted for by the sweet 
influence of grief when sanctified by the Holy 
Spirit. Blessed Redeemer, we delight in thy love, 
and thy presence is the life of our joys ; but if thy 
brief withdrawals qualify us for glorifying thee in 
cheering thy saints, we thank thee for standing 
behind the wall ; and as we seek thee by night, it 
shall somewhat cheer us that thou art blessing us 
when thou takest away thy richest blessing. 

By sad experience of apparent desertion we are 
some of us enabled to preach to sinners with 
greater affection and concern than we could have 
exhibited without it. Our bowels yearn over dying 
men, for we know what their miseries must be, if 
they die out of Christ. If our light affliction, 
which is but for a moment, is yet at times the 
cause of great heaviness, what must an eternal 
weight of torment be ? These thoughts, begotten 
by our sorrow, are very useful in stirring up our 
hearts in preaching, for under such emotions we 
weep over them, we plead with them ; and, as 
though God did beseech them by us, we pray them 
in Christ's stead to be reconciled to God. For a 
17 



386 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

proof thereof, let the reader turn to the Address 
to the Unconverted appended to this chapter ; it 
was written by one who for many years endured 
the gloom of desertion. May God bless it to sin- 
ners ! 

4. The Lord Jesus sometimes hides himself from 
us, because by his foresight and prudence he is 
thus able to prevent the breaking forth of evil. 
Perhaps pride would rise to an alarming height if 
the pining sickness of desertion did not somewhat 
abate its violence. If some men had all their 
desires the earth would need enlargement, for their, 
pride would become intolerable to their fellows ; 
and, certainly, while corruption still remains in our 
hearts, continual comfort would work somewhat in 
the same manner even in us. Because of the 
haughtiness, which so easily arises in the hearts of 
the Lord's people if they have a little too much 
feasting, " the Lord in his care and goodness is fain 
to hold them to hard meat, and to keep them to a 
spare diet."* Sometimes, also, high living would 
bring on carelessness of walk. We should forget 
that we walk by faith, and not by sight, if it were 
not for intervals of darkness in which sense is put 
to its wit's ends, and only faith is of use to us. 
Dependence is generally the mother of humility ; 
as long as we feel the one we shall not be quite 

* Thomas Hooker. 



CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 387 

devoid of the other ; therefore our Divine Lord, 
according to his own wisdom, gives us a bitter les- 
son in both, by stopping the supplies of joy and 
withholding his presence. The fact is, that in our 
present state much that is pleasant to us is not 
good for us. We are not able to endure the weight 
of glory, for our backs are weak, and we stagger 
under it. It is hard to hold a full cup with a 
steady hand. We are like the fire on the hearth, 
which can be extinguished by too much sunlight, 
as well as by floods of water; even joy can destroy 
us as well as grief. The Master said to his dis- 
ciples, " I have yet many things to say unto you, 
but ye cannot bear them now."* The incapacity 
of the saint may account for the comparative few- 
ness of his delights. u As it is with a little bark, 
if it should have a great mainmast and broad sail- 
cloths, then, instead of carrying it, it would be 
overthrown by them ; therefore men proportion 
their mast according to their ship or bark; and 
if it have skilful mariners, they strike sail when 
they come into the shallow or narrow seas. This is 
the reason why the Lord so deals with us : the soul 
is like the ship, and the sense of God's love and 
mercy is like the sail that carries us on in a 
Christian course ; and if we get but little sail of 
mercy and favour, we go on sweetly and com- 

* John xvi. 12. 



388 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

fortably ; but if God gives us abundance and assu- 
rance, our cursed rotten hearts would overturn, and 
instead of quickening us it would overthrow us ; so 
that though God doth it, the fault is in ourselves."* 
If we have been sorely tried and severely exer- 
cised, our trials should read us a lesson upon the 
evil of our nature. Let us exclaim with that long 
afflicted saint, Mr. Rogers, "We that have tasted 
so much of his displeasure have cause to rejoice 
with trembling ; every remembrance of that dole- 
ful time must be to us a new motive to obedience, 
and a powerful restraint of sin ; lie chastens us for 
our profit, that we might be partakers of his holi- 
ness. Oh, what an abundance of folly must there 
have been lodged in our hearts that God is forced 
to use so sharp and so severe a method to whip 
it out ! How benumbed were we, that nothing 
else could awaken us ! How diseased, that noth- 
ing but a potion so bitter could promote our cure ! 
How great was our pride, that he was forced to 
beat it down by so violent a stroke ! It must have 
been like the pride of Israel, to whom he saith, 
He led thee through that great and terrible wilder- 
ness, wherein were fiery serpents, and scorpions, 
and drought, where there was no water ; that 
he might humble thee, and prove thee, to do thee 
good in thy latter end." 

* SouPs Implantation, by T. Hooker. 



CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 389 

5. Our Lord Jesus designs also to try our faith. 
He will see whether we can trust him or no. 
When we see him by sensible enjoyment there 
is not that space for faith which his absence causes ; 
and, moreover, to believe what we feel to be true 
is no hard matter, but to credit what present 
experience appears to contradict is a divine act 
which is most honourable to the grace which 
enables us to do it. Our faith is the centre of the 
target at which God doth shoot when he tries us, 
and if any other grace shall escape untried, cer- 
tainly faith shall not. There is no way of piercing 
faith to its very marrow like the sticking of the 
arrow of desertion in it ; this finds it out whether 
it be of the immortals or no. Strip it of its armour 
of conscious enjoyment, and suffer the terrors of 
the Lord to set themselves in array against it, and 
that is faith indeed which can escape unhurt from 
the midst of the attack. Faith must be tried, and 
desertion is the furnace, heated seven times, into 
which it must be thrust. Blest is the man who can 
endure the ordeal. 

6. A temporary withdrawal endears Christ to us 
upon his return, and gives the soul some idea of the 
infinite value of his smile. Constant enjoyment of 
any good thing is too much for our corrupt natures. 
Israel loathed the angel's food, ( and sighed for the 
meaner fare of Egypt — the garl.*3 and the onions; 
but if the manna had been stayed, how eagerly 



390 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

would they have clamoured for its restoration! 
When rain falls in its needed season we scarcely 
stay to return thanks for the boon ; but if it be 
withheld, how do we bless the drops and thank the 
God of heaven for them. Sunlight is never more 
grateful than after a long watch in the midnight 
blackness; Christ's presence is nevermore accepta- 
ble than after a time of weeping, on account of his 
departure. It is a sad thing that we should need 
to lose our mercies to teach us to be grateful for 
them ; let us mourn over this crookedness of our 
nature ; and let us strive to express our thankful- 
ness for mercies, so that we may not have to lament 
their removal. Let us deal courteously, tenderly, 
obediently, and affectionately, with our glorious 
Lord, and it may be we shall retain him as a con- 
stant guest. 

7. This also whets our appetite for heaven, and 
makes us thirst for the land of bliss. The world 
has a fascinating power which constrains us to love 
it, if all be well ; but by removing the light of his 
face, our Lord Jesus breaks the spell, and delivers 
us from the overweening love of the creature. 
Weaning is sorrowful work, but it must be done : 
we must be made to groan in this body that we 
may be made ready for the unclothing, and the 
"clothing upon," by which mortality shall be swal- 
lowed up of life. In heaven they see his face, and 
his name is in their foreheads; this incites the 



CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 391 

saint to pant for glory, that he may obtain uninter- 
rupted fellowship with Jesus. O how sweet it 
must be to behold his face without the shadow of 
an intervening cloud ; to dwell in his house, and 
go no more out for ever ; to lean upon his bosom, 
and never rise from that delightful posture ! In 
our days of song and tabret we are still conscious 
that there is richer music in the upper world ; but 
in times of fasting and sighing, how do we cry out 
for the living God, and pant to appear before him. 
" God's house is an hospital at one end, and a 
palace at the other. In the hospital end are 
Christ's members upon earth, conflicting with 
various diseases, and confined to strict regimen of 
his appointing. What sort of a patient would he 
be, who would be sorry to be told that the hour is 
come for his dismission from the hospital, and 
to see the doors thrown wide open for his admis- 
sion into the presence of the King." * Happy are 
the spirits who have ended their fight of faith, and 
now live in the raptures of a sight of Him ; yea, 
thrice happy are the lowest of those seraphs who 
fly at his bidding, and do for ever behold the face 
of our Father which is in heaven. The drought of 
these dry plains stirreth us to desire the river of 
the water of life ; the barren fig-trees of this weary 
land urge us to pursue a speedy path to the immor- 

* Adams's Private Thoughts. 



392 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

tal trees upon the banks of the river of God ; our 
clouds exhort us to fly above this lower sky up 
where unclouded ages roll; the very thorns and 
briars, the dust and heat of this world's pilgrimage 
and strife, are powerful orators to excite our high- 
est thoughts to the things which are unseen and 
eternal. Thus the bitterness of time bids us 
desire the sweetness of immortality, and even 
prepares us for it. 

In times of distress, when the withdrawal of 
Christ is caused by any of these causes, let the 
saint stay himself upon his God. The light is a 
pleasant thing, but faith can walk without it. It 
is good to have the Lord's presence, but let us 
remember that we are not saved by our enjoyments 
of him, but by his efficacy for us. We are full of 
sin, and in our distress we feel it, but He is full of 
grace and truth ; let us believe His all-sufficiency, 
and rest in it. His blood not our peace, his merit 
not our comfort, his perfection not our commu- 
nion, — are the pillars of our salvation. "We love 
his company, and the manifest sense of it is sweet 
indeed ; but if it be denied us, nevertheless " the 
foundation of God standeth sure." Jesus, the yea 
and amen, is the same yesterday, to-day, and for 
ever. Our soul hangs upon him in the thick dark- 
ness, and glories in him in the storm. The pro 
mise, like an anchor, holds us fast ; and, though 
the pilot sleeps, all must be well. It is not our eve 



CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 393 

on him which is our great protection, but his eye 
on us ; let us be assured that although we cannot 
see him, he can see us, and, therefore, we are safe. 
Whatever our frame or feeling, the heart of Jesus is 
full of love — love which was not caused by our good 
behaviour, and is not diminished by our follies — 
love which is as sure in the night of darkness, as 
in the brightness of the day of joy. Therefore are 
we confident and full of hope, and we can sing 
with our favourite poet — 

"Away, despair; my gracious Lord doth hear, 
Though winds and waves assault my keel, 
He doth preserve it ; he doth steer, 
Even when the boat seems most to reel. 
Storms are the triumph of his art ; 
Well may he close his eyes, but not his heart." * 

We never live so well as when we live on the 
Lord Jesus simply as he is, and not upon our 
enjoyments and raptures. Faith is never more 
likely to increase in strength than in times which 
seem adverse to her. When she is lightened of trust 
in joys, experiences, frames, feelings, and the like, 
she rises the nearer heaven, like the balloon when 
the bags of sand are emptied. Trust in thy 
Redeemer's strength, thou benighted soul; exercise 
what faith thou hast, and by-and-by he shall arise 
upon thee with healing beneath his wings. 

* Herbert. 

IT* 



394: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

The next and last case has been already alluded 
to in the previous chapter. Sin, with its hosts, 
closes the rear. We do not intend to do more 
than instance the special iniquities which more 
readily than any other will cause the Master to be 
gone. * 

8. Gross and foul offences of any kind will drive 
the King from the soul very speedily. Let the 
believer bemire himself with lust, or put forth his 
hand unto violence, or speak lying or lascivious 
words — let him give great and scandalous cause to 
the enemy to blaspheme — and, as surely as he is 
the Lord's child, his back shall smart for it. If we 
lie in the bed of Jezebel, we shall not have the 
company of Jesus there. As soon expect to see 
an angel in the stye with swine, as Christ Jesus in 
company with the filthy. Should we be left to 
commit adultery like David, we shall have our 
bones broken as he had ; if we swear like Peter, 
we shall have to weep as bitterly as he ; and if we 
flee like Jonah from the service of the Lord, we 
may expect to go into as great depths as he did. 
The sun will shine on the dunghill, but Christ will 
not shine on the back-slider while he is indulging 
in his lusts. How terrible are the agonies of the 
mind when some surprising sin is visited upon us ! 
In an ancient work, as rare as its own merits, we 
find the following : — 

" For he withdraweth his face and favour from 



CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 395 

us, kindleth his anger against us, and counteth ns 
as his enemies ;* the horror of his wrath is as fire 
sent from above into our bones, and is as the 
arrows of the Almighty, the venom whereof drink- 
eth up our spirit. He setteth our iniquities before 
himself, and our secret sins in the light of his 
countenance ;f he setteth them also in our own 
sight, and our sin is before us continually ;;): with 
his hand he bindeth the yoke of our transgressions, 
and with them being laid upon our neck he maketh 
our strenth to fail ;§ bitter things doth he write 
against us, and maketh us to inherit the iniquities 
of our youth,! so that there is nothing found in our 
flesh because of his anger, neither is there rest in 
our bones because of our sin : our wounds stink 
and are corrupt f[ our veins are full of burning, 
our heart is as wax ; it melteth in the midst of our 
bowels ;** our bones are parched like an hearth,ft 
and our moisture is turned to a summer drought, 
so heavy is his hand upon us night and clay.^ 
Then cry we out for- grief of heart ; we roar like 
bears, and mourn like doves ;§§ looking for judg- 
ment, but there is none — for salvation, but it is far 
from us; because our trespasses are many, both 

* Job xix. 11 f Ps. xc. 8. 

X Ps. li. 3. § Lam. i. 14. 

I Job xiii. 26. T Ps. xxxviii. 3, 5, 7. 

** Ps. xxii. 14. ft Ps. cii. 3. 

XX Ps. xxxii. 4. §§ Isa. lix. 11, 1?.. 



396 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUE. 

before him and ourselves, for which his terrors do 
fight against us, he visiteth us every morning,* 
and tryeth us every moment ; setteth us as a mark 
against him, so that we are a burden to ourselves. 
Also, when we cry and shout, he shutteth out our 
prayer,f and is even angry against it, J because our 
iniquities have separated between us and him, and 
our sins have hid his face from us, that he will not 
hear ;§ so loathsome are our trespasses unto him, so 
venomous to ourselves is the biting of those fierce 
serpents." 

Careless living, even if we fall not into open 
transgression, will soon build a wall between our 
Lord and the soul. If daily sins are unconfessed 
and unrepented of, they will daily accumulate 
until they form "mountains of division" between 
our adorable Friend and our own heart. A little 
filth acquired every day, if it be left unwashed, 
will make us as black as if we had been plunged 
in the mire ; and as sin upon the conscience turns 
Christ's joy out of the heart, it will be impossible 
for us to feel the delights of communion until all 
our everyday sins have been washed from the con- 
science by a fresh- application of the atoning blood. 
Let us take heed that we offer the morning and 
evening lamb, constantly looking to the blood of 

* Job vii. 18. j- Lam. iii. 8. 

% Ps. lxxx. 4. § Isa. lix. 2. 



CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 39? 

the Great Sacrifice, and seeking a fresh discovery 
of its cleansing power. 

Neglect of prayer is a sad grief to the Holy 
Spirit, and will as soon cause the Lord to withdraw 
as open sin. How many of ns from this cause 
have dropped the thread of communion, and so 
have lost the clue to happiness. Jesus will never 
reveal himself in any marked manner unto us while 
we neglect the throne of grace. We must seclude 
ourselves if we would see our Beloved. It was a 
sweet saying of Bernard, " O saint, knowest thou 
not that thy husband, Christ, is bashful, and will 
not be familiar in company ? retire thyself by 
meditation into thy closet, or into the fields, and 
there thou shalt have Christ's embraces." Rebekah 
went to the well, and was met by one who gave 
her jewels of gold, and found her a husband ; let us 
go to the well of prayer, and we shall meet Jesus, 
but those who tarry at home shall lack. 

Idleness in the ways of grace will also hinder 
communion. If we travel slowly, and loiter on the 
road, Jesus will go on before us, and sin will over- 
take us. If we are dilatory and lazy in the vine- 
yard, the Master will not smile on us when, he 
walks through his garden. Be active, and expect 
Christ to be with thee ; be idle, and the thorns 
and briars will grow so thickiy, that he will be 
shut out of thy door. We should never mend our 
pace on Heaven's* road if our comforts did not fly 



398 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

ahead of us, so as to allure us to speed, by com- 
pelling us to pursue them. 

Unthankfulness will soon strip us of our joys. 
It is said of the sun, that none look at him except 
he be in an eclipse ; and we fear we are all too 
forgetful of Christ unless he veil his face : there- 
fore, to chasten us for our ill manners, and incite 
us to a more loving carriage towards him, he will 
hide himself in darkness if we forget his good- 
ness. 

Cowardice will also rob us of the Master's mani- 
fest presence. The ancient saints who at any time, 
in order to avoid the stake, were led through 
weakness to deny their profession, were made 
sorely to rue the day that they ever did so weak a 
deed. And we, if we are ashamed of him in the 
time of rebuke and reproach, must not look for any 
love-feasts with him. Captains cannot smile on 
runaway soldiers, or even on men who quake in 
the moment of conflict. We must be valorous if 
we would be comforted ; we must show ourselves 
men if we would have Christ show himself our 
loving friend. When Jonah runs from Nineveh 
he must not reckon upon his Lord's company, 
except it be to rebuke and smite him. " In our 
English chronicles we read of the rare affection of 
Eleanor, the wife of Edward L, who, when the 
king had been wounded with a poisoned dagger, 
set her mouth to the wound to suck out the poison, 



CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 399 

venturing her own life to preserve her husband. 
Such is the strengh of love in a healthy Christian, 
that were it necessary to suck poison out of the 
wounds of Jesus, he would be content to do so." 
And this he will do in a spiritual sense, for if he 
can in no other way remove contempt and slander 
from the cause of Christ and his church, he will 
rather bear it himself than allow it to fall on his 
Master. But if this noble spirit shall give place to 
mean self-seeking, and carnal care of our personal 
interests, the Lord will forsake the tabernacle 
where we dwell, and leave us to mourn the dis- 
pleasure of our slighted friend. 

Harshness to the afflicted may bring us into deep 
waters. If the strong cattle push the weak with 
their horns, and thrust with the shoulder, they 
must have the fatness of their strength removed, 
and the glory of their horns cut off, that they may 
learn to deal gently with the tender-hearted and 
timid. When we hear a strong professor dealing 
roughly with any of the Lord's afflicted, as sure as 
he is an heir heaven he will in due time have cause 
to eat his words. That is an unhumbled heart 
which can allow hard thoughts concerning the 
little ones ; and God will put that proud spirit into 
the dark until it can bear the infirmities of the 
weak. Be gentle, ye great in Zion, lest ye offend 
the poor and mean of the congregation. 

Pride casts a thick shadow over the path of any 



400 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

believer who indulges in it. Men love not the 
proud — their company is a torment, and their very 
presence an offence ; how much more obnoxious 
must it be to the Son of God ! Especially must it 
be exceeding hateful in those who are indebted to 
grace for the very breath in their nostrils, and who, 
in themselves, are the most detestable of creatures, 
but are made the sons of God through great and 
unmerited mercy. When we become conceited 
with our choice experiences, admirable emotions, 
and marvellous discoveries, and in our imaginary 
greatness grow unmindful of the Giver of these 
good gifts, he will soon level us with the ground, 
and make us groan out of the dust. The smoke of 
the incense of our pride will blind the eyes to 
Christ, and hide Christ from the saint. 

Idolatrous love, whatever may be the object of 
it, is so abominable, that it will shut out the light 
of God's countenance in a short space, unless it be 
destroyed. Rivals Jesus will not endure ; and 
unless we give him the highest throne he will leave 
us to mourn his absence. Love not thy wealth, 
thy name, thy friends, thy life, thy comfort, thy 
husband, thy wife, or thy children, more than thou 
lovest him, or even so much ; for he will either 
take them from thee, or else his own delightful 
presence, and the loss of either would be an evil 
not worth the idolatry which will surely engender 
it. Set not your affections on things of earth, lest 



CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 401 

the comfortable enjoyment of Him who is from 
above should be withdrawn from thee. 

Unbelief, distrust, and worldly care, will also 
provoke him to return unto his place. If we can- 
not trust him with ourselves, and all that we have, 
he will not confide his heart with us. A fit of 
worldly anxiety has many a time cut off the 
streams of fellowship. Fretful trouble about many 
things is a fearful injury to the one thing. All the 
saints will confess that the fair flower of fellowship 
will not bloom in the atmosphere of carking care. 
That great rebel, Infidelity, will sometimes turn 
the key of the gates of Mansoul against the Prince 
Immanuel himself, and cause him to return to the 
palace of his Father. It is a high affront put upon 
the Lord Jesus when we presume to manage our 
own business instead of leaving all with him. The 
old puritan said, " Whenever we carve for our- 
selves we cut our own fingers !" He might have 
added, " And worse still, we highly affront the 
Head of the feast, and cause him to withdraw from 
the table." Oh ! for grace to leave all with 
Christ ; it cannot be in better hands, and our own 
care could never produce results which could for 
an instant be compared with the effects of his pro- 
vidential consideration. 

Bat carnal security is the master-sin in this 
point. Hence, Bunyan makes a feast in the house 
of that deceitful old Diabolian, Mr. Carnal-Security, 



402 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

the scene of the discovery of the departure of 
Prince Iinmanuel. There is in carnal security a 
mixture of all other kinds of sin. It is a monster 
composed of the deformities of all the foul sins 
which man can commit. It is ingratitude, pride, 
worldliness, sloth, inordinate affection, evil con- 
cupiscence and rebellion in one. It is like those 
fabled monsters which bore a resemblance to every 
other creature, inasmuch as the most terrible parts 
of every beast were in them united into one hideous 
monstrosity. Now whenever self-confidence grows 
in the heart, and destroys our implicit dependence 
and our unfeigned humility, it will not be long 
before Christ and the soul will be far apart — so far 
as any comfortable communion is concerned. 

It only remains to add that as we are differently 
constituted, certain sins will have greater power 
over one than another, and hence one sin may 
drive the Saviour from one believer, and an 
opposite sin may grieve him in another; indeed, 
any one sin, if harboured against light and know- 
ledge, is quite sufficient to cast the mind into the 
doleful condition of a deserted soul. Constant 
watchfulness is necessary in order to the preserva- 
tion of communion : but of this we will say more 
in another place. 

It will be hard work to sustain faith when sin 
is arrived at such a dangerous height ; but in order 



CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 403 

that the believer may be able to do so, by the 
divine power of the Holy Spirit, let him reflect 
that his present mournful condition is no sign 
that he is cast away — nay, let him believe it to be 
the very reverse. If the Lord Jesus had not 
looked upon him, he would never have known how 
evil a thing it is to lose a sense of his love. Blind 
men do not miss the light when it is removed 
by the setting of the sun ; and if the afflicted soul 
were wholly blind, he would not lament the hiding 
of the Sun of righteousness. But if this is too high 
a comfort, let him remember that there is still a 
fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness ; and 
while he sorrows for his absent Lord let him not 
despair, but let him still look to the cross, and 
hope. Let the deserted one confess his ill-deserv- 
ings, but let him remember that his sin is laid 
upon the head of Jesus. Punishment for sin is not 
in any degree mixed up with the withdrawal 
which he is now experiencing. The believer owes 
nothing to punitive justice, and therefore nothing 
can be exacted of him. " Though the sufferings 
of Christ do not secure us from sufferings, they 
change the nature and design of our afflictions, 
so that, instead of their being punishments, they 
are corrections, and are inflicted not by the sword 
of the Judge, but by the rod of the Father." * Let 

* Jay's Christian Contemplated. 



404: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

the believer hear the voice of comfort : — " Thou 
hast not a farthing of debt to pay to God's law ; 
there is no indictment against thee, nor a bill for 
thee to answer — Christ has paid all." * Christ's 
departure is not for thy death, but to promote thy 
better life. He is not gone to demand a writ 
against thee, he is bnt absent to make thee purge 
out the old leaven, that he may come and keep the 
feast with thee. 

Remember also that a change in the outward 
dealings of the Lord Jesus is not to be looked 
upon as an alteration in his love. He has as 
much affection for us when he puts us in the 
prjson-house of desertion as when he leads us 
into the pavilion of communion. Immutability 
will not allow of the shadow of a turning ; and 
as immutability is stamped as much upon the 
affection of Christ as upon his divinity itself, it 
follows that our variable condition produces no. 
change in him. 

" Immutable his will ; 

Though dark may be my frame, 
His loving heart is still 

Unchangeably the same. 
My soul through many changes goes ; 
His love no variation knows." 

That holy martyr, Master John Bradford, thus 

* Colling's Cordial for a Dying Soul. 



CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 405 

comforted himself and his friends in a time of 
gloom — " The mother sometimes beateth the child, 
but yet her heart melteth upon it even in the very 
beating ; and therefore she casteth the rod into the 
fire, and calleth the child, giveth it an apple, and 
dandleth it most motherly. And to say the truth, 
the love of mothers to their children is but a trace 
to train us up to behold the love of God towards 
us ; and therefore saith he, ' Can a mother forget 
the child of her womb V as much as to say, ' ISTo, 
but if she should do so, yet will I not forget thee, 
saith the Lord of Hosts.' Ah, comfortable saying ! 
— I will not forget thee." 

"Wait awhile, and the light which is sown for the 
righteous shall bring forth a harvest of delights; 
but water the ground with the tears of thy repent- 
ance, lest the seed should long tarry under the 
clods. As sure as thou art a quickened soul thou 
wilt, in the dreary winter of thy Lord's absence, 
pant for renewed communion ; and be thou sure to 
use all means to obtain this boon. Do as thou 
didst when thou didst first come to Christ. Eead 
and practise the directions given to the seeking 
sinner in the third chapter,* for they are well- 
adapted to thine own case, and then take the advice 
which follows : — 

1. Hunt out and slay the sin which has caused 

* See p. 142. 



406 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

the coolness of fellowship between thee and thy 
Lord. 

2. Most humbly confess this sin. and ask grace 
to avoid it in future. 

3. Come again as a poor guilty sinner to the 
cross of Christ, and put thy trust implicitly in him 
who died upon it. 

4. Use thy closet and thy Bible more frequently, 
and with more earnestness. 

5. Be active in serving Christ, and patient in 
waiting for him, and ere long he will appear to 
cheer thy spirit with floods of his surpassing love. 
If all these fail thee, tarry the leisure of thy 
Master, and thy work shall certainly be rewaided 
in due time. 

May God the Holy Spirit, by his divine influence, 
bedew with grace the pages of this chapter, that 
they may minister grace to the afflicted reader. 



TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. 



Sinner, we beseech thee listen to the warnings 
of one* who was for a long time sad and sick on 
account of the hidings of his Lord's face. He 
was a true and eminent saint, yet mark his sor- 
sows, and let them awaken thee to fear the wrath 
to come : 

" Oh, sinners ! I have dearly paid for all the 
delight I once had in sin — for all my indifference 
and lukewarmness, my cold and sluggish prayers, 
my lost and misimproved time. Beware that you 
do not provoke him, for he is a jealous God ; for 
if you do, you shall also find that those sins which 
you make a slight matter of, will tear you to pieces 
hereafter. You will find them, when your con- 
sciences are awakened, to be a heavy and intolera- 
ble burden ; they will press you down to hell 
itself. I could not have thought that the dis- 



* Rev. Timothy Rogers, M.A. 

40? 



408 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

pleasure of God had been a thing so bitter, and so 
very dreadful. It is a fearful- thing to fall into 
the hands of the living God, for he is a consuming 
fire : if his anger be kindled but a little, you can- 
not then fix your mind upon any pleasant objects, 
nor have one easy thought ; you cannot then go 
about your business, your trade, or your secular 
affairs, for your souls will be so much amazed that 
you will be full of horror and consternation. Those 
of us who have felt the terrors of the lord, do 
most earnestly persuade you to forsake every sin ; 
for if you indulge in and love your iniquities, they 
will set you on fire round about. Oh, that you 
did but know what you do when you sin ! You 
are opposing that authority that will avenge itself 
of all its obstinate opposers ; you are heaping up 
fuel for your own destruction ; you are whetting 
that sword which will enter into your bowels ; you 
are preparing yourselves for bitterness and trouble ; 
and though God is patient for awhile, yet he will 
not always be so: the shadows of the night are 
drawing on, and the doleful time will come when all 
your mirth will end in tears, and all your false con- 
fidence and your foolish hopes will expire and give 
up the ghost. And which of you will live when 
God shall enter into judgment with yon ? What 
will you do ? Where will you go for help when 
he who is your Maker — he who has weighed your 
actions, and observed your wanderings, shall call 



CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 409 

you to give an account of all these things ? If 
our blessed Lord, when he came near Jerusalem, 
lifted up his voice and wept, saying, Oh, that 
thou hadst known, even thou in this thy day, the 
things that belong unto thy peace ! what cause 
have we to mourn over our fellow-creatures, whom 
we see to be in danger of misery, and, alas, they 
know it not ! Can we see them sleeping on the 
very edge of ruin, and not be greatly troubled for 
them ! Oh, poor sinners, you are now sleeping, 
but the judge is at the door / you are rolling the 
pleasant morsel under your tongue, but it will be 
great vexation to you in the end. How can you 
rest % how can you be quiet when you have none 
of your sins pardoned ? ]STo comfortable relation 
to God ! no well-grounded hope of heaven ! How 
can you, with any assurance, go about those things 
that concern your buying, your selling, and the 
present life, when your poor souls, that are of a 
thousand times more value, are neglected all the 
while ! ~We have felt great terrors, inexpressible 
sorrows, from an angry God, and we would fain 
persuade you not to run upon the thick bosses of 
his buckler, not to dare his justice, not to despise 
his threats as once it was our folly : but we knew 
not what we did. We are come out of great tribu 
lation, and a fiery furnace, and we would fain per- 
suade you to avoid the like danger ; let what we 
have felt be a caution to you. It was the desire 

18 



410 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

of Dives, in his misery, that he might leave it to 
go thence to warn his brethren lest they came to 
the same place of torment ; but it could not be 
granted. Some of us here come from the very 
gates of hell to warn' you that you may not go 
thither — nay, to warn you that you may never go 
so near it as we did. We wish you so well that 
we would not have any of you to feel so much sor- 
row and grief as we have felt. "We were once 
asleep, as you are ; we did not imagine that terror 
and desolation were so near when they came upon 
us ; and now, having been overtaken by a storm 
of wrath, we come to warn you that we see the 
clouds gather, that there is a sound of much rain 
and of great misery, though your eyes are so fixed 
on things below, that you see it not. You must 
speedily arise and seek for a shelter, as you value 
the salvation of your souls ; you must not put off 
serious thoughts for your own safety, not for one 
day, not for one hour longer, lest it be too late. 
We were travelling with as little thought of dan- 
ger as some of you, and we fell among thieves ; 
they plundered of our peace and comfort, and we 
were even ready to die, when that God, whose just 
displeasure brought us low, was pleased to take 
pity on us, and to send his Son, as the kind Sama- 
ritan, to bind up our wounds and to cheer our 
hearts ; and we cannot be so uncharitable as not to 
tell you, when we see you going the same way, 



CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 4:11 

that there are robbers on the road, and that if you 
do not either return or change your course you will 
smart for your temerity as much as we have done. 
We have been saved indeed at length from our 
fears, as by fire; but we suffered, while they 
remained, very great loss. Some, perhaps, will be 
saying within themselves, ' I shall see no evil, 
though I walk in the imaginations of my own heart. 
These things you talk of are the mere product of a 
melancholy temper, that always presages the worst 
— that is always frighting itself and others with 
black and formidable ideas ; and seeing I am no 
way inclinable to that distemper, I need not fear 
any such perplexing thoughts? But know that no 
briskness of temper, no sanguine courageous hopes, 
no jollities nor diversions, can fence you from the 
wrath of God. If you go on in sin, you must feel 
the bitterness of it either in this or the next world ; 
and that may, notwithstanding all the strength of 
your constitution, all the pleasures of your unfear- 
ing youth, come upon a sudden. Your souls are 
always naked and open before God, and he can 
make terrible impressions of wrath there when he 
will, though by your cheerfulness and mirth you 
seem to be at the greatest distance from it." 

" Ye bold, blaspheming souls, 

Whose conscience nothing scares ; 
Ye carnal, cold, professing fools, 
Whose state's as bad as theirs. 



4:12 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOTJK. 

" Repent, or you're undone, 

And pray to God with speed ; 
Perhaps the truth may yet be known, 
And make you free indeed. 

** The hour of death draws nigh, 
'Tis time to drop the mask ; 
Fall at the feet of Christ and cry 5 
He gives to all that ask*" 



XII. 

COMMUNION PRESERVED. 



But they constrained him, saying, Abide with us, for it is toward 
evening, and the day is far spent." — Luke xxiv. 29. 



These disciples knew not their Lord, but they 
loved the unknown stranger who spake so sweetly 
of him. Blessed are the men who discourse of 
Jesus; they shall ever find a welcome in the hearts 
and homes of the elect. His name to our ears is 
ever melodious, and we love that conversation best 
.which is fullest of it. We would willingly afford 
the chamber on the wall, the table, the stool, and 
the candlestick, to all those who will talk conti- 
nually of Rim. But, alas! there are too many 
who would blush to answer our Saviour's question, 
" What manner of communications are these that 
ye have one to another?"* Too great a number 
of professors forget the words of the prophet, 

* Luke xxiv. IT. 

413 



414 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

" Then they that feared the Lord spake often one 
to another : and the Lord hearkened and heard it, 
and a book of remembrance was written before 
him for them that feared the Lord, and that thought 
upon his name. And they shall be mine, saith the 
Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my 
jewels; and I will spare them as a man spareth 
his own son that serveth him."* We will not be 
censorious, but we believe with an old author, that 
" the metal of the bell is known by the sound of 
the clapper ; what is in the well will be found in 
the bucket; what is in the warehouse will be 
shown in the shop ; and what is in the heart will be 
bubbling forth at the mouth." 

We often miss our Lord's company, because our 
conversation does not please him. "When our 
Beloved goes down into his garden, it is to feed 
there and gather lilies ;f but if thorns and nettles 
are the only products of the soil, he will soon be 
away to the true beds of spices. When two walk 
together, and are agreed in solemn discourse con- 
cerning heavenly things, Jesus will soon make a 
third. So here, on this journey to Emmaus, the 
Saviour, though they "knew him not, because 
their eyes were holden," did so wondrously con- 
verse with them, that their" " hearts burned within 
them." lie who would stay a man in the street 

• Mai. iii. 16, 1*7. f Cant. vi. 2. 



COMMUNION PRESERVED. 415 

would naturally call out his name ; and he who 
would bring Jesus into his soul must frequently 
pronounce his charming name. 

The Lord having graciously conversed with 
these favoured travellers, essays to leave them, 
and continue his journey, but they constrain him 
to remain, and at their earnest suit he does so. 
From this pleasing little incident let us glean one 
or two lessons. 

I. When we have the Saviours company for a 
little while, we shall not be content until we have 
more of it. These holy men were not content to. 
let him go, but would have him tarry with them all 
night. There are certain liquors which men drink 
that are said to increase thirst ; it is most true of 
this rich " wine on the lees," that the more we 
drink of it the more we desire. ISTor will the 
draught be forbidden us, or prove in any way 
injurious, for the spouse bids us " drink, yea, drink 
abundantly." The soul winch has enjoyed commu 
nion with Jesus will never agree that it has dwelt 
long enough on the mount: it will far rather build 
a tabernacle for itself and its master. Never is a 
Christian tired of his Redeemer's society, but, like 
Abraham, he cries, "My Lord, if now I have 
found favour in thy sight, pass not away, I pray 
thee, from thy servant." Any plea will be urged 
to persuade our Lord to remain. Is it evening \ 



416 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

we will plead that the day is far spent, and we 
shall need him to cheer our midnight hours. Is it 
morning? we will tell him that we fear to besdn 
the day without a long visit from him. Is it noon ? 
we will urge that the sun is hot, and we shall faint 
unless he allows us to sit beneath his shadow. We 
will always find some reason for his remaining, for 
love's logic is inexhaustible. If he would become 
our constant guest we should never weary of his 
company. A thousand years would seem but as 
one day if all the time we might lay our head upon 
his bosom ; yea, eternity itself shall need no other 
source of joy since this perennial stream is ever 
running. When our wondering eyes have admired 
the beauties of our Saviour for millions of years 
we shall be quite as willing to continue the medita- 
tion, supremely blest with that Heaven which our 
eyes shall drink in from his wounded hands and 
side. . The marrow of heaven is Jesus ; and as we 
shall never be surfeited with bliss, so we shall 
never have too much of Jesus. Fresh glories 'are 
discovered in him every hour; his person, work, 
ofiices, character, affection, and relationships, are 
each of them clusters of stars which the eye of 
contemplation will view with unutterable astonish- 
ment as they are in their order revealed to the 
mind. The saint who has longest tenanted fhe 
mansions of glory will confess that the presence 
of the Saviour has not ceased to be his bliss, nor 



COMMUNION PRESERVED. 417 

has the freshness of the pleasure been in the least 
diminished. Christ is a flower, but he fadeth not ; 
he is a river, but he is never dry ; he is a sun, but 
he knoweth no eclipse ; he is all in all, but he is 
something more than all. He that longs not for 
Christ hath not seen him, and by just so much as 
man has tasted of the sweetness of Jesus will he be 
hungry and thirsty after more of him. Men who 
are content with a manifestation once in a month 
will soon become so dull that once a year will suit 
them ; but he who has a visit from the Saviour 
very frequently will be panting for fresh views of 
him every day — yea, and every hour of the day. 
He will never lack appetite for spiritual things 
who lives much on them. The poor professor may 
be content with a few of Christ's pence now and 
then, but he who is rich in grace thinks so small 
an income beneath his station, and cannot live 
unless he has golden gifts from the hand of his 
Lord ; he will covet earnestly this best of gifts, 
and be a very miser after the precious things of 
the cross. John Owen, the most sober of theolo- 
gians, falls into a perfect ecstasy when touching 
on this subject. In expounding Cant. viii. 6, 7, he 
gives us the following glowing passage : " The 
intendment of what is so loftily set out by so many 
metaphors in these verses is, 'I am not able to 
bear the workings of my love to thee, unless I may 
always have society and fellowship with thee. 

18* 



418 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIODR. 

There is no satisfying of my love without it. It is 
as the grave, that still says, Give ! give ! Death 
is not satisfied without its prey. If it have not all 
it has nothing.'' Let what will happen, if death 
hath not its whole desire it hath nothing at all. 
Nor can it be withstood in its appointed season; 
no ransom will be taken. So is my love ; if I 
have thee not wholly I have nothing. Nor can all 
the world bribe it to a diversion; it will be no 
more turned aside than death in its time. Alas ! I 
am not able to bear my jealous thoughts ; I fear 
thou dost not love me — that thou hast forsaken me, 
because I know I deserve not to be beloved. 
These thoughts are hard as hell ; they give no rest 
to my soul. If I find not myself on thy heart and 
arm, I am as one that lies down in a bed of 
coals" The absence of the Saviour deprives the 
believer of more than joy or light ; it seems to 
destroy his very life, and sap the foundations of his 
being. Let us seek then to hold the king in his 
galleries. 

II. We remark, in the next place, that if we 
would keep the Saviour with us, we must constrain 
him. Jesus will not tarry if he is not pressed to do 
so. Not that he is ever weary of his people, but 
because he would have them show their sense of 
his value. In the case before us, it is said, " he 
made as if he would go further." This he did to 



COMMUNION PRESERVED. 419 

>ry their affection. " Not," says Ness, " that he 
had any purpose to depart from them, but to prove 
them how they prized him, and accounted of his 
company. Therefore this ought not to be misira- 
proved to countenance any kind of sinful dissimil- 
ation. If Solomon might make as though he 
would do an act that in its own nature was unlaw- 
ful (to slay an innocent child),* sure I am our 
Saviour might do that which is but indifferent in 
itself (whether to go or stay) without being charged 
with the sin of dissembling. But when Christ 
makes to be gone, the two disciples would not let 
him go, but one (as it were) gets hold on one arm, 
and the other on the other ; there they hang till 
they constrain him to continue with them." These 
were wise men, and were, therefore, loath to part 
with a fellow-traveller from whom they could learn 
so much. If we are ever privileged to receive 
Jesus under our roof, let us make haste to secure 
the door that he may not soon be gone. If he sees 
us careless concerning him, and cold towards him, 
he will soon arise and go hence. He will not in- 
trude himself where he is not wanted ; he needs no 
lodging, for the heaven of heavens is his perpetual 
palace, and there be many hearts of the contrite 
where he will find a hearty welcome. 

When we have the honour of a visit from Prince 
Immanuel let everything be done to protract it. 

* 1 Kings, iii. 24. 



420 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

Angels' visits are few and far between : when we 
have the happiness of meeting therewith, let ns, 
like Jacob, manfully grasp the angel, and detain 
him, at least until he leaves a blessing. Up, 
Christian, with a holy bravery, and lay hold on the 
mercy while it is within reach ! The Son of Man 
loves those who hold him tightly. He will not 
resent the familiarity, but will approve of thine 
earnestness. Let the loving bride of the Canticles 
teach thee by her example, for she glories in her 
deed when she sings, " I found him whom my soul 
loveth, I held him, and I would not let him go.'* 
True, 'tis amazing grace which can allow such a 
liberty with the person of so exalted a being ; but 
seeing that he invites us to lay hold on his strength, 
and has sanctioned the act in others, shall we, like 
Ahaz, when he declined to ask a sign,, refuse the 
favour which our Lord allows ? No — 

" We will maintain our hold ; 



How can we then prolong our communion with the 
Saviour 'i Let us reply to the question by sundry 
directions, which, by the aid of the Spirit, we will 
labour to follow. 

1. Allow no rivals to intrude. Jesus will never 
tarry in a divided heart. He must be all or 
nothing. Search then thy heart; dethrone its 
idols; eject all interlopers; chastise all trespassers ; 
yea, slay the Diabolians who lurk in thy soul. If 



COMMUNION PRESERVED. 421 

we would enjoy uninterrupted fellowship with the 
Son of God, we must institute a rigid inquisition 
against all kinds of sin. A little evil will at times 
mar our peace, just as a small stone in the shoe will 
spoil our walking. Tender are the shoots of this 
vine of communion, and little foxes will do no little 
injury. " The Lord thy God is a jealous God," and 
Jesus thy husband is jealous also. Sorely did he 
smite Jerusalem, because she sought affinity with 
other gods, and chose to herself many lovers. Keep 
then thy house and heart open to him, and shut to 
all others. With sin he cannot dwell. Canst thou 
expect the "angel of the covenant" to dwell with 
the prince of darkness? Can there be concord 
with Christ and Belial? Awake then, and cry 
" Away, ye profane," my heart is the temple of 
Jesus, and ye must not defile its hallowed places. 
If they retire not, get to thyself the scourge of re- 
pentance and self-mortification, and if it be laid on 
lustily they will not long abide the blows. 

It behoves us to remember, also, that there are 
other things besides sins which may become offen- 
sive to the Saviour. The nearest friend, the part- 
ner of our bosom, or the offspring of our loins, may 
excite the Lord's jealousy. If these become the 
objects of an affection which ought to be wholly 
his, he will be moved to anger with us. The calf 
was no less an idol because it was made of gold. 
The brazen serpent, despite its original service, 
must be broken when men worship it. All things 



4:22 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

are alike cause of jealousy to Jesus if they are 
exalted to his throne, since no creature can in thfe 
least possess anything deserving of worship. The 
very mention of a rival's name will suffice to drive 
our blessed Lord away. He will have the 'name 
of Baali taken utterly out of our mouth ; and he 
alone must be our Ishi. 

Oh ! true believer, is there no strange god with 
thee? Make a thorough search. Bid even thy 
beloved Rachel rise, for the teraph is often con- 
cealed beneath the place where she sitteth. Say 
not in haste, I am no idolater. The approaches of 
this sin are insidious in the extreme, and ere thou 
knowest it thou art entangled in its iron net. The 
love of the creature has a bewitching power over 
men, and they seldom know the treachery of the 
Delilah until their locks are shorn. Oh, daughters 
of Zion, let King Solomon alone have your love ; 
rehearse his name in your songs, and write his 
achievements on your memories ; so will he dwel\ 
in the city of David and ride through your midst 
in his chariot paved with love for you : but if ye 
pay homage to any save himself, he will return 
unto his place and make your beauteous city a by- 
word with the enemy. Have no fellowship with 
strangers, if you desire manifestations of love from 
the adorable Jesus. " Let none be your love and 
choice, and the flower of your delights, but your 
Lord Jesus. Set not your heart upon the world, 
since God hath not made it your portion ; for it 



COMMUNION PRESERVED. 423 

will not fall to you to get two portions, and to re- 
joice twice, and to be happy twice, and to have an 
upper heaven and an under heaven too. Most of 
us have a lover and idol besides our husband, 
Christ ; but it is our folly to divide our narrow and 
little love ; it will not serve for two. It is best 
then to hold it whole and together, and to give it 
to Christ ; for then we get double interest for our 
love, when we lend it to, and lay it out upon, 
Christ; and we are sure, besides, that the stock 
-cannot perish." 

Let us muse on the words of the writer of The 
Synagogue — 

" Peace, rebel thought, dost thou not know the king 

My God is here ? 
Cannot his presence, if no other thing, 

Make thee forbear? 
Or were he absent, all the standers by 

Are but his spies ; 
And well he knows, if thou shouldst it deny, 

Thy words were lies. 
If others will not, yet I must, and will, 

Myself complain. 
My God, even now a base, rebellious thought 

Began to move, 
And subtly twining with me would have wrought 

Me from my love : 
Fain he would have me to believe that Sin 

And thou might both 
Take up my heart together for your inn, 

And neither loathe 
The other's company ; a while sit still, 

And part again." 



424 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 

2. Give the Saviour a goodly entertainment, fit 
for so great a prince, and thus he may be persuaded 
to make a longer stay. His rank, his honour, and 
his benevolence, entitle him to the most respectful 
treatment. Shall the Son of God be entertained in 
any but the best room of the house ? Shall we 
offer on his altar any save the fattest of the flock 
and the herd ? Shall we spare ourselves when he 
is our guest? Shall gentlemen spend all their 
estates that they may sumptuously feast an earthly 
monarch ? and shall we penuriously count the cost 
of our love to him ? Beloved, we shall have but 
brief glimpses of Jesus if he does not perceive our 
souls affected by it. A slight from his friends 
grieves his spirit, and he withdraws himself. We 
ought to count it a cheap bargain if we could give 
our all to win the constant indwelling of Jesus. 
Princes have melted pearls into the wine where- 
with they entertained monarchs, let us do the 
same. Let us make rich offerings to Jesus ; let 
our duties be more faithfully discharged, our 
labours more willingly performed, and let our zeal 
be more eminently fervent. If the altar cease to 
smoke with incense, the heart will be made empty 
and void by the departure of its Lord. Self- 
sacrifice is sweet to our Redeemer, he loves to see 
his dearly-purchased people confessing that they 
are not their own. Oh, brethren in the Gospel, do 
more if ye would receive more ; give more largely 
and ye shall be cheered more abundantly. The 



COMMUNION PRESERVED. 425 

self-denying missionary, the laborious pastor, the 
earnest evangelist, and the indefatigable church 
member, are generally the persons invited to the 
royal banquets of Jesus. He delights to honour 
the men who wait at his gates with diligence, and 
watch for his coming with vigilance. Faithful ser 
vice shall never be unrewarded by the master'? 
notice, and continuance in well-doing shall receive 
as its recompence a perpetuity of approbation. 
Hold thou the Saviour, oh believer ! by hands 
ready for service and happy to obey. 

3. Trust the Lord much while lie is with you. 
Keep no secrets from him. His secrets are with 
you ; let your secrets be with him. Jesus admires 
confidence, and if it be not afforded him, he will 
say, " Farewell," until we can trust him better. So 
lung as we put our lips to the ear of Christ, and 
tell him all, he will never let us be alone. When 
we reveal every whit, and hide nothing from him, 
he is pleased with us ; but when we conceal our 
designs, our troubles, or our fears, he frowns at our 
w r ant of confidence. If thou desirest Christ for a 
perpetual guest, give him all the keys of thine 
heart ; let not one cabinet be locked up from him ; 
give him the range of every room, and the key 
of every chamber ; thus you will constrain him 
to remain. True faith holds the feet of Jesus and 
prevents his departure : when he rises to continue 
his journey, she cries, " Not so, my Lord, hear one 



426 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

more word, listen to the wants of thy servant, let 
at least another of my griefs find a tomb in thy 
loving heart. Listen to me this once, for I have 
somewhat to say unto thee which so deeply con- 
cerns me, that if thou dost not regard me, I know 
not whither to resort." Thus she will hold her 
confidant by one continued series of confessions. 
We doubt not that our loving Lord frequently 
hides his face from us because we rely not enough 
upon him. It would be the part of wisdom to 
transfer our cares to him who careth for us ; thus 
should we imitate David, who urges us to " pour 
out our hearts before him." Make Christ manager 
of thine affairs, and so please him. An old writer 
somewhere says, "He who runs before the cloud 
of divine direction goeth a fool's errand :" let us 
then desist from self-serving, and give ourselves up 
like children to the loving care of a tender parent, 
to be led, guided, directed, and supplied by our 
great Covenant Head ; so will he always have 
business to do at our house, and will make our soul 
his settled rest. 

4. Another method of retaining the compan} 7 of 
our Beloved, is to bring in others of his friends to 
sit with us. It may be if he cometh not to us 
alone, he will come with them, and if perchance 
some ill word, of ours might urge him to depart, 
yet, for the sake of others who sit with him, he will 
remain. One of these disciples migh not have con- 



COMMUNION PRESERVED. 427 

strained Christ, but the two effected it. Fire will 
not tarry in a single coal, but if many be laid 
together it will be long before it is clean gone. A 
single tree may not afford much shelter for a travel- 
ler, but he will rest beneath the thick boughs of 
the grove : so will Jesus often sit longer where 
many of " the trees of the Lord " are planted. Go 
to the assemblies of the saints, if you would keep 
the arm of the King of saints. Those who dwell 
most with the daughters of Jerusalem are most 
likely to have a goodly share of Emmanuel's com- 
pany. Cannot my reader add his own testimony 
to the fact that fellowship with the saints is 
conducive to a continuance of fellowship with 
Jesus ? 

5. Earnest prayer is the most potent means of 
winning continued communion. We have found it 
true, that the mercy-seat is the place where the 
Lord meets his servants. Full often our souls have 
risen from depths of distress to heights of delight, 
by the simple appeal to heaven, which we by sup- 
plication have been allowed to make. We will 
speak well of the exercise of prayer ; we can 
endorse all the titles which old divines have given 
it, such as— the key of heaven, and of all God's 
cabinets, the conduit of mercy, faith miming, 
Jacob's ladder, an invisible and invincible weapon, 
a victory over the Omnipotent, the sweet consump- 
tion, of cares, a box of ointment broken on the 



4:28 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 

head of Christ, the perfume of heaven, the mount 
of transfiguration, the soul's messenger, and Satan's 
scourge : but we will add another — it is a golden 
chain which holds the Saviour, and secures him to 
his people. Christ never lingers long with dumb 
souls ; if there be no crying out to him, he loves 
not silence, and he departs and betakes himself to 
those hearts which are full of the music of prayer. 
What a marvellous influence prayer has upon our 
fellowship with Jesus ! We may always measure 
one by the other. Those pray most fervently and 
frequently who have been constant attendants on 
the kind Intercessor ; while, on the other hand, 
those who wrestle the hardest in supplication will 
hold the angel the longest. Joshua's voice stayed 
the sun in the heavens for a few hours ; but the 
voice of prayer can detain the Sun of righteousness 
for months and even years. 

Christian Brethren, will you slight this exhorta- 
tion % Shall none of these means be tried ? Are 
you content to suffer your Saviour to depart ? Are 
ye careless as to his company ? Then you have 
grave cause for fear ; there is something vitally 
wrong. Pass not by this sad admonitory symptom ; 
search your heart, for a sad disease is there. May 
the great Physician heal thee. 

But surely, as joint-heir with Jesus, thou hast 
longings after him and sighings for his presence. 
Then let it be thy concern to find him, and, having 



COMMUNION PRESERVED. 429 

found him, to constrain him to abide with thee for 
ever. 

" Oh, that we could for ever sit 
"With Mary, at the Master's feet ; 

Be this our happy choice, 
Our only care, delight, and bliss, 
Our joy, our heaven on earth be this, 
To hear the Bridegroom's voice. 

" Oh, that we could with favour'd John, 
Kecline our weary head3 upon 

The dear Eedeemer's breast ! 
From care, and sin, and sorrow free, 
Give us, Lord, to find in thee 

Our everlasting rest." 

In a short time it will be our joy to hold further 
converse with each other, upon various important 
points of our knowledge of Christ. "We trust we 
shall then be privileged to enter more fully into the 
mysteries of communion, and in the mean time we 
commend our humble effort to the blessing of 
Heaven, trusting that some beginners will here 
read and learn what are the elements of that 
wondrous experience which falls to the lot of a 
Christian. 



TO THE UNCONVERTED READER 



WHO IS UNDER CONCERN OF SOUL. 



Friend, — You are now commencing the life of 
grace, for thou art just awakened to know the evil 
of sin. You are now feeling the guilt of your life, 
and are lamenting the follies of your youth. You 
fear there is no hope of pardon, no prospect of for- 
giveness, and you tremble lest death should lead 
your guilty soul unforgiven before its Maker. 
Hear, then, the word of God. Thy pains for sins 
are God's work in thy soul. He woundeth thee 
that thou mayest seek him. He would not have 
showed thee thy sin if he did not intend to pardon. 
Thou art now a sinner, and Jesus came to save 
sinners, therefore he came to save thee ; yea, he 
is saving thee now. These strivings of soul are the 
work of his mercy ; there is love in every blow, 
and grace in every stripe. Believe, O troubled 
one, that he is able to save thee unto the uttermost, 



COMMUNION PRESERVED. 431 

and thou shalt not believe in vain. Now, in the 
silence of thine agony, look unto him who by his 
stripes healeth thee. Jesus Christ has suffered the 
penalty of thy sins, and has endured the wrath of 
God on thy behalf. See yonder crucified Man on 
Calvary, and mark thee that those drops of blood 
are falling for thee, those nailed hands are pierced 
for thee, and that open side contains a heart full 
of love to thee. 

" None but Jesus, none but Jesus, 
Can do helpless sinners good." 

It is simple reliance on him which saves. The 
negro said, " Massa, I fall flat on de promise ;" so 
if you fall flat on the promise of Jesus you shall not 
find him fail you ; he will bind up your heart, and 
make an end to the days of your mourning. We 
shall meet in heaven one day to sing hallelujah to 
the condescending Lord ; till then may the God of 
all grace be our helper. Amen. 



432 



UNTO HIM THAT LOVED US, 

AND 

WASHED US FROM OUR SINS IN HIS 

OWN BLOOD, 

AND HATH MADE US KINGS AND PRIESTS 

UNTO 



GOD AND OUR FATHER; 

TO HIM BE GLORY AND DOMINION, 

FOR EVER AND EVER, 

AMEN. 






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WISDOM, WIT, AND WHIMS OF 
DISTINGUISHED ANCIENT PHILOSOPHERS. 

By Joseph Banvard, A. M. 

1 vol., 12mo. Cloth. Price 75 cents. 

This "Work embraces the most interesting and most important Incidents iu 
the History of the old Philosophers, their Personal Manners and Habits, 
and Anecdotes of their intercourse among the High and Low, with their 
most remarkable Apophthegms, Proverbs, and Pithy Replies to difficult and 
curious questions ; Alphabetically Arranged. 

ANECDOTES: RELIGIOUS, MORAL, 
AND ENTERTAINING. 

Alphabetically Arranged, and Interspersed with a Variety of 

Useful Observations. 

Selected by the late Rev. Charles Buck. 

Illustrated with a Steel Plate Frontispiece. 514 pages. 12mo. Price $1 50. 

A Rare, Curious, and Entertaining Book on 

THE ORIGIN AND DERIVATION OF FAMILY 

AND CHRISTIAN NAMES. 

By William: Arthur, M. A 

■ 1 vol, 12mo. Price $1. 



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